The Mobian Chronicles Book One
by Chaytel Solverre
Summary: Alternate-universe SatAM series. At the height of the Great War, the Mobian race is on the verge of defeat. But soon the course of history will change, and a fateful coup will thrust a young Sonic and his friends into a lifelong adventure.
1. Foreword

The Resistance War.

Looking out from my study window at the shining towers, the splendid streets and houses; listening to the soft murmur of the city waterway and the chatter of citizens milling about before the evening comes to New Mobotropolis, it is hard to imagine that the Resistance War ended a scant century ago. For a period so integral to who we are as a people today, so very little is really known about it. As all of Mobiankind faced both her darkest hour, and brightest hopes, there were obviously few men and women with the inclination (or time, no doubt!) to sit down to write accounts of what was happening around them. Indeed, we know today more about our ancient history than we do of the intricacies of that series of conflicts that only the oldest among us live to remember.

When his majesty asked me to create a historical account of the Resistance War, I scarcely knew where to begin my search for sources. My eternal gratitude is with (at the time of this writing) Minister of Engineering, Sir Dylan Drake, who provided a great deal of personal accounts about the War from his own memories of it. With his help, I was able to gain access to the journal of Sir Miles Prower; this proved an even more invaluable source of information on the war. After pouring through the few other sources I could find, I felt comfortable enough to begin to pen this story.

As there are many historical accounts from the Great War already widely available, (In particular, I would recommend the late Dr. Althan's 'Tales from the Great War' series for readers who are interested in that turbulent and romanticized period in our history.) this historical account begins just before the conclusion of the Great War, in the year before the tyrant Robotnik seized power. From there it covers all twenty-eight years of the war, from beginning, to end. Great care has been taken to preserve historical accuracy; however, both because of the limited information about this period, and in the interests of making the tale enjoyable rather than stale and scientific, some events have been embellished or added.

Now, upon the hundredth anniversary of the end of the conflict and the beginning of a golden age, it is with great pride that I pen this foreword; though the beginning of the story, it is the culmination of two decades of research and writing. It is with my sincerest hopes that all of Mobius will read these chronicles, and learn the history contained within, 'lest it be repeated one day.

~Sir Chaytel Marseil Solverre, Royal Historian

On behalf of H.R.M., King Nathaniel Acorn, year 128 A.C.


	2. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

The sun had just found its way into a bedroom window of the spacious Hedgehog Estate when the sole occupant at that morning hour had just woken. With a yawn and a stretch, the blue hedgehog boy sat up and turned, his bare feet coming to rest on the plush red carpet with a quiet thump. Sonic Maurice Hedgehog, age five, was at the same time the most mature, yet irresponsible boy most Mobians had ever met. "Shoes..." he mumbled, still drowsy as he reached under his bed to feel for the special frictionless shoes his uncle had given him for his birthday. As his fingers hooked under the buckle of one, his hand felt the crumple of paper inside as he pulled it out from under the bed.

Sure enough, Uncle Charles had left him a note in his shoes again. It was the first thing he reached for in the mornings, so his uncle had found out he was more likely to read the note first thing in the morning if it was in a shoe instead of on the nightstand, or the mirror. The blue-quilled hedgehog boy rubbed the drowsiness from his emerald-green eyes and unfolded the brown parchment with a soft rustle, reading it aloud to himself.

"My boy,

Don't forget that you have class at six-thirty sharp. Rosie will be furious with me if she has to keep the class waiting on you one more time. There's five mobium on the nightstand to get you a bite at the market on your way. Please don't turn up late for class... again.

Uncle Chuck"

Sonic sat the note on his nightstand as he grabbed his white gloves off it and slipped them on, tucking the large copper coin that was with them into a pocket on the back of one of his gloves. "What time is it, anyway?" He asked himself rhetorically, stepping into his red and white shoes as he bent over to fasten the buckles. A quick glance at the clock on his wall woke him up better than anything else could this particular morning; class was starting in less than a minute!

"I overslept!" Sonic burst out of his room, rolling and tumbling down the long, carpeted foyer staircase as he struggled to get his other shoe on. He stumbled up to his feet, shoes buckled as he raced into the main hall and out the large double doors of his uncle's estate. "Oh, man, Uncle Chuck's gonna ground me for sure if I don't juice out of here!" Though his uncle frowned on what the hedgehog referred to colloquially as 'juicing', the young hedgehog had a feeling he'd disapprove even more if Rosie told him about his nephew being late to class again. Thanks to his frictionless shoes, and a strange natural talent for sprinting, Sonic burst into a breakneck running speed, rocketing out of the estate grounds and vaulting over the metal gate in a blurring fast motion, running for his classes as if his social life depended upon it. "I'm gonna be-"

Elsewhere, in the city's Market Square, a fruit vendor was doing his best to attract early-morning shoppers. "Come one, come all!" The middle-aged badger shouted, waving an arm and pointing to his fruit stand. "Fresh apo fruit right here! Hand picked from the Garden of Life just this morning, get them while they're ripe!"

His pitch managed to attract a customer, a teenage squirrel girl who greeted him and began digging in her money pouch. "How much are they, today, anyway?"

"Just five mobium each, ma'am." The vendor tipped his blue cap to her... then perked an ear. "Say, do you hear something?" he inquired, as he held out one of the smooth red apo fruits for her.

"No, I don't hear any... wait, what IS that sound?" both she and the fruit vendor turned to look down the cobblestone street to see a rising cloud of dust rapidly approaching, with a faint voice of a young boy growing louder as it approached.

"laaaAAAaaaate!"

The voice became louder as a blue streak ripped by them, sending loose street debris and dust scooting down the path in its wake.

"What was THAT?" the merchant badger asked, picking up his cap from the ground. As the young boy's nasal voice faded away into the distance. "Hey! Where'd that fruit go? I had it in my hand just a..." The red fruit in his hand had vanished. In its place was a five-mobium coin.

Sonic sped through the city, rocketing down side streets and alleyways, bouncing off of buildings and weaving through the bustling morning crowd at hundreds of miles an hour as he ate his apo fruit, winding up his arm and pitching the core into a trash bin as he passed one by, the sudden clang of fruit striking metal startling a passerby. "Yaaaaahoooooo!" He was getting close now. He could see the clock tower at Castle Acorn, and its face showed that he still had almost half a minute left. He turned on a dime without losing any of his breakneck momentum, leaping off a wall and onto a set of rooftops, undoubtedly waking up the residents below him as his blurry feet hammered along their roofing tiles on his way to the Forum Gardens and the observation tower where his teacher was likely waiting on him.

Meanwhile, in the cosmopolitan city's Central Forum, Mobotropolis' most brilliant minds, Sonic's uncle among them, were assembling for an emergency meeting.

"Oh yes, I think this meeting will be well worth the short notice." Another blue hedgehog, Sonic's Uncle Charles, attempted to assuage the early morning bitterness of his colleagues as they filed to their podiums for the meeting. "We're very close to a major breakthrough, and I am positive that my-" The old hedgehog abruptly fell silent, putting on his spectacles to look at the glint on the distant rooftops that had caught his eye. "Oh, no... here he comes, save the papers!" Sir Charles scooped up a handful of blueprints and clutched them tightly to his chest, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth as another of his colleagues, a squirrel in a white coat, comically threw himself upon a large stack of papers.

A split-second later, Sonic the Hedgehog tore through the Central Forum at the speed of sound, the shock wave in his wake sending papers and models blowing and rolling about the forum.

Once the roar of air passed them by, Sir Charles stood up and fixed his windblown quills and clothing, looking sheepishly back at the other forum-goers, one of which put a hand on his shoulder, and looked him square in the eye. "Please make him stop doing that."

"Five seconds!" Sonic exclaimed, looking up the tower at the clock as he raced straight up the sheer face of the structure, counting down the seconds he had left to reach the top. If he was a second late, Rosie would show him no mercy this time.

"Five seconds." Atop the Clock tower, on an observation level a few feet below the towering clock face, a young ground squirrel girl of similar age to Sonic, but dressed in a lavish gown and tiara looked up at the massive clock and smiled to herself. "He's going to be late again, Rosie."

Next to her, an aging chipmunk in a long red robe sighed and shook her head slowly. "Why is that boy always late..."

Suddenly, a blue flash shot up past the railing of the tower, landed on the massive minute hand of the clock, and slowed down as it slid down the steep angle of the hand, landing beside the two and unrolling to reveal the blue hedgehog just moments before the tower gave out six long chimes and a shorter one. "Way past cool! I'm the best!" Sonic thrust his arms in the air as he began to catch his breath.

Rosie stared at him incredulously. "Sonic, how in the world did you... oh no! Surely you didn't!" She looked down at the chaos in the Forum Gardens as the people far below ran about collecting their windblown papers and equipment.

"Hey Sally!" Sonic exclaimed. "I did it!"

The young princess joined her matron in looking down and marveling at the sheer havoc the hedgehog had wrought in the Forum Gardens yet again. She giggled and shook her head. "Boy did you ever, Sonic."


	3. Chapter 1

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter I: **__Council_

The Universe is forever growing, forever changing. Even itself one tiny part of a greater Multiverse, it consists of a boundless expanse of galaxies. These galaxies are spinning wonderlands of stars that light the infinite, and each star has its own many and varied planets. Every solar system is a library; each planet is a storybook, and the beings that live upon them each write a page of their own. There are more stories in the universe than even its unimaginable librarian could ever hope to read, and no two are ever alike. One such library is a cluster of planets that orbit a bright blue star; The Mobius System.

The largest planet in the system is the one to give it its name. Mobius, a rich and beautiful cosmopolitan world that is home to innumerable species of plants and countless animals, the most prominent of which being the Mobian race. Blessed by a perfect location to keep a life sustaining temperature, immense amounts of natural resources, and a dominant race that strives for balance and preservation of the ecosystem, Mobius is a paradise drifting in the sea of stars; and this is its story.

Although Mobius also stands out in beauty, majesty, and countless dull scientific facts, her face shines quite literally with the light of civilization. The Mobian race is an oddity among intelligent life, in that it is not truly one species, but many. A collective race born from hundreds of separate animal species that evolved into sentience at approximately the same time, the Mobian race attributes their unified sentience to divine intervention in their creation myth. That is another story entirely, and is the beginning point for conventional Mobian history.

Primitive Mobian society was savage, territorial, and ignorant, not far from the wild things it had sprung up from. Over time, Mobiankind developed a sense of group unity; many separate subspecies of once-nomadic races came together to build their first cities. The unexplainable power of magic was a way of life for this prototype Mobian society, and powerful mages and wizards were the ruling class. Fearing that Mobians who could not use magic would rise up if they were ever given a chance these magic-users suppressed education and learning, aside from the magic they taught one another. Mobian culture stopped in its tracks and the race stagnated completely.

The seeds of change first sprouted when a few non-wizards rose to prominence; they established a monarchical dynasty and began to take power into their own hands. However, even in this period in Mobian history, magic was still a way of life for many people. No castle court was complete without a wizard, and most common folk depended upon them for things they themselves could not do in those less advanced times.

Magic was an art passed down with great difficulty, as only a moderate percentage of the population was able to draw upon the energy forces that manifested as magic. Those who were born with the ability to control magic were known as 'wellborn', those who could not were called mundanes. Ultimately, this difference in equality and power led to a further split and a growing resentment between the two groups. As more and more of the wellborn began to worry for themselves and fear the increasing political tensions, the number of wellborn that actively pursued a career in magic began to dwindle. Magic as an art and science all but died out, only kept alive by the most powerful wizards, intent on keeping their place in the world in the face of growing technology. In societies controlled by these wellborn, science and learning were still greatly suppressed. Only through keeping the masses ignorant could magic remain the supreme power on Mobius.

When Mobius became enlightened to science and high technology in the golden age known as the Technological Revolution, the mundanes suddenly became empowered. Now that anyone, mundane or wellborn, could use a machine or science to do the same things that magic could do, the masses had no reason to tolerate the great wizards that so often ruled over them. Many of the ruling wizards were cast down from their towers and exiled, taking with them the last of the greatest wellborn bloodlines. For many years during and after the revolution new scientific discoveries were made at an astonishing pace, all in the wake of the demise of magic on Mobius; Mobians caught up with over a thousand years of technological stagnation in less than a quarter of that time. For the first time, the common folk were truly empowered and well educated. Very little of the old ways remained untouched; instead of a court of magi and seers the king was advised for the first time by a newly formed Mobian Scientific Council, a group of the best minds in fields such as Chemistry, Physics, and Mathematics, as well as new fields of study such as Genetics, Robotics and Cybernetics. Mobians had once again reclaimed the lead as the most advanced and powerful species on the planet.

Mobians, however, were not the only sentient species on their world. Egotistical and self-righteous, a race of large primates known as Overlanders served as the polar opposites of the passive and practical Mobians. Tall and muscled where Mobians were short and lithe, mostly hairless instead of covered in fur or plumage, the Overlanders had enjoyed technological and cultural superiority in the times before the Technological Revolution. With the sudden advances in Mobian society, the increasingly xenophobic Overlanders became paranoid and fearful of losing control of their world and soon declared war on the entire Mobian race. The genocidal campaign raged on for more than two generations and by the very height of the Great War, as it came to be known, Mobiankind had been pushed back severely. Mobian cities and countries around the world were beset with a superior enemy in battle, and the looming face of possible invasion on every horizon became a way of life in every Mobian nation. The Acorn kingdom, housed in its cosmopolitan capitol city of Mobotropolis, was no exception...

It was morning in Mobotropolis; a dry, sunny one, the kind that evoked thoughts of picnics and long walks in the city gardens, despite the looming fear of the ongoing war. As it had for generations, the Mobian Scientific Council began to file into their meeting place, the Forum Gardens. Built in the stately shadow of Castle Acorn, the Forum Gardens served as a meeting place, a park, and public grounds all in one. A small amphitheater made up the forum itself, recessed into the gold and limestone foundation and ringed with marble columns; each lavishly draped in red velvet trappings and engraved with historic records. A set of thirteen enclosed podiums, (one of them larger than the others) sat along the edge of the forum, rotated inward in anticipation of their important occupants.

A small band of colleagues, as varied in fields of study as they were in species, took to their podiums with quiet swiftness. Dressed in their finest outfits, with papers, models, and books by the armload, the Scientific Council began to bring itself to order. Each member, in turn, announced themselves in accordance with tradition.

The first to take their podium was a cardinal, one of the more uncommon subspecies of Mobians. A particularly famous member of her species, this one was notably exotic about style. Although she was already born covered in bright red feathers, she also felt the need to dispense with tradition and wear a colorful costume rather than the dull robes of political officials. By layering patches of cloth, she had made a dress of bright yellows, blues, greens, and a number of combinations of colors where layers overlapped. Though her appearance was bright and cheerful, the expression on her face was not. Solemnly straightening out her papers, she turned on her microphone and announced herself; looking across the forum with sad, dull black eyes. "Professor Cassiopeia Notwen, Physics." A heavy sigh escaped her beak as her shoulders slumped and she turned to the floor. Despite immense depression, her tone was soft and melodic as all avian voices were; but it was clear her heart was not in it any more. "I'm here…" She was not so, at least in spirit.

Everyone knew well what was eating her inside. Professor Notwen was a dedicated pacifist and member of a particularly life-espousing offshoot of traditional Mobian faiths. After the king's decree that the Royal Army was to employ firearms (a weapon long felt cowardly and dishonorable, though it was being used to great effect by their enemy) if the war was to be winnable, the Professor had been tasked exclusively with creating a highly efficient energy gun. Perpetually torn between delaying the project to save lives, and rushing the project to save other lives, Cassiopeia felt that she was responsible for the deaths on either side no matter what she did. Her delays had earned the sympathy of her colleagues, but the ire of her king, whom rumor held was going to demand her resignation soon.

The next member to take their place was a tall, rough-looking white wolf with a decidedly kind face. "Dr. Lorne Lockhart, Minister of Biology, present!" His voice boomed out without the need for a microphone, smooth and confident. A true doctor of medicine in addition to biology, he wore the trappings of one as well, a white coat with comfortable dark shoes and gloves. Only an exotic pendant; an animal fang tied with leather cord around his neck, gave any reference to his species' tribal history. Like many younger wolves in his time, Dr. Lockhart and his wife had left the simple tribal life on the plains behind and made their way to the city, to learn. Already well versed in herbal remedies and natural treatments, he quickly came to prominence as a holistic doctor and made a seat on the council at age twenty-six, the most recent member, having only served one year. No one had a better understanding of the inner workings of the Mobian body than him.

"Ahem." A short blue hedgehog with graying mustache and hair cleared his throat with a soft rumble before turning on his microphone. He arched his tufted eyebrows and brushed his robe smooth with both hands, looking over the forum as he had done for longer than any other member present. "Sir Charles Hedgehog, Minister of Cybernetics, present." The only member of the existing council to be knighted, Sir Charles had earned his title through decades of humanitarian inventions and programs. Though carrying a knightly title meant he was obligated to serve in the army in the event he was needed, the aged hedgehog was now too far along in years to wield anything but his cane against the Overlanders, should the need arise.

Sir Charles closest friend on the council was, ironically, his sworn enemy by race. With the distinction of being the only Overlander to ever serve on the Scientific Council, Dr. Julian Ovi Kintobor had a history as strange as his recently acquired position. Formerly a brilliant scientist for the Overlanders (and politically powerful enough to eventually become absolute leader, had fate not conspired otherwise) Dr. Kintobor was nearly killed by an assassin's bomb. Blind, deaf and horribly maimed in his left arm, he stumbled from the wreck of his office and was eventually found by a Mobian patrol. Normally, he would have been put out of his misery, or taken for questioning, but his horrific state evoked a sudden, surprising pity by the very people he had helped to eradicate. After several years of rehabilitation, the Dr. Kintobor designed and built a new set of eyes, ears and arm with the help of his new found friend, Sir Charles. They had since been working on a joint project to develop new robotic replacements for lost limbs and organs.

"Ugh." Julian Kintobor was a large man, to be certain; Overlanders were twice the height of a Mobian as well as being built far stockier, and Dr. Kintobor was exceptionally tall and obese even by Overlander proportions. "Blasted contraption..." As such, it was a long and unpleasant affair for him to cram his girth into a Mobian-sized, enclosed podium. A new, proper-sized one was being installed for him soon, but for the moment, he was forced to fit himself inside. After much groaning and contortions, he finally closed the sliding door behind him and turned on his microphone. "Sorry about that…" He rasped, partly from being out of breath, and partly from the scarring in his throat that gave him a permanent, gravelly rasp. "Dr. Julian Ovi Kintobor, Minister of Robotics." He gestured with some difficulty to the next podium, nodding. "Go ahead."

The occupant of the next podium was perhaps the brightest of the group, but definitely not the best. A tall, slender fox, bright orange in fur color, rolled his eyes at the gesture. "Ja, danke, Herr Doctor." With a foreign accent so sharp and thick that people accused him of faking it, the fox was famously unpleasant to be around. The sort of person to wear polished black jack boots to formal meetings. He was the sort of person who buttoned his bright crimson suit jacket all the way to the collar, but, most of all, the sort of person who not only had lesser royalty, but an unheard of I.Q. to lord over everyone around him. He clicked his black boots together at the heels and straightened into meticulous posture. "Baron-Doctor Reinhardt Faustian von Myrkka, representing ze field of Engineering. I am here!"

The next member in the circle was a polar opposite of Faustian in every way. Alicia Metis wasn't even a doctor or professor; she was simply a big thinker with interesting ideas. Coming from a very long line of Metises on the council, the middle-aged gray badger woman had inherited her job from the last Minister of Theoretical Sciences, her mother. Supposedly, there had been a direct female descendant in the position for six generations straight. The most recent one didn't get along with the council well. "Yeah, I'm here." She adjusted her blue jacket and nonchalantly popped her shoulders. After a series of incredulous looks from her peers she shrugged her shoulders at them, tilting her head and glaring back. "What? I'm here, you know who I am, let's go." She turned and pointed out of her podium to the next one. "Hey! Four-eyes!" She snapped her fingers at the bespectacled member in the adjacent podium. "You're up!"

Her target of antagonizing was a young brown squirrel, overdressed even by the most clothing-loving Mobian's standards. While most Mobians wore nothing, many wore at least some clothing for decoration, convenience, or protection. Arthur Calus, however, covered himself out of old-fashioned shyness. Dressed in a white lab coat, blue slacks, a striped shirt, and old sneakers, his most unforgivable fashion breach was his lime green tie, adorned with prime numbers all over it in black. Hearing his associate call for him, he immediately snapped into action, embarrassed as he closed the doors to his podium. "Ah, yes, yes of course! Terribly, uh… terribly sorry!" His nasal voice cut off suddenly as he realized his tail was caught in the door. The youngest member of the council, barely out of his teens, Professor Arthur Calus was a socially stunted genius in his field. Though Faustian boasted perhaps the highest I.Q., Calus had the best mathematical mind of anyone to ever serve on the council. It was enough to make up for his unusual shortcomings in the eyes of his peers. "Come on, now!" The squirrel had twisted around to grab his tail, pulling against the door with all his lack of might. "Give it back!" Suddenly the door sprung open and shut again, freeing him so suddenly that he fell back against the podium console and crashed to the floor, sending his stacks of papers he'd brought along drifting about the inside of his podium. "Ow…" He slowly pulled himself back up to his feet with the help of the microphone mount and dusted himself off, blushing through a buck-toothed smile. "Uhhh, yes. Now then, P-Professor Arthur Calus!" He gestured to the next minister in the circle, before gasping with realization, adding, "Oh! Uhhh, r-representing the science of Mathematics, of course! A-heh."

Chester Aden's life was a series of also-rans and near-misses. Having served with no distinction on the council, the tawny-furred young rabbit was constantly overshadowed by some of the legends he sat in the circle with. The Minister of Chemistry's rough nature was perhaps best summed up by the leather jacket he wore. A former in-house chemist for a drug cartel that had risen to prominence among disenfranchised citizenry during the war, Professor Aden had, over the last four years, developed a recreational drug more addictive than anything on the market, had a change of heart, helped put the entire cartel in the Royal Prison, and developed a number of chemical treatments for addicts. It was this that earned him his position, but ever since, the small time hoodlum-turned-philanthropist had seen his projects shuffled out of his control, had his funding pulled in favor of war efforts, and generally been politically mistreated. "Professor Chester A. Aden, Minister of Chemistry. I'm here, not that anyone cares."

The figure in the next podium was a head taller than any of his countrymen. At four feet and two inches, (staggeringly tall by Mobian standards) the tiger had to have his expensive black suit custom-tailored for him. No one was sure exactly where the mysterious yellow cat came from, but his accent said he wasn't from around Mobotropolis. Middle-aged, he had been in the city for some time, practically shadowing the king at every public appearance. He idly flicked a speck of dust off of his dark glasses with his meticulously trimmed claws and announced himself as he always did; with a slow, deep, and careful tone. "General Nikolai Katzenov, Minister of Military Science. Present and accounted for." Katzenov was in charge of applying the discoveries of the rest of the council to military use. Rumor has it he had a number of other responsibilities, ranging from the King's bodyguard, to heading the Royal Intelligence Agency, but none of the council wanted to press the tiger in black about his business.

"Ahem." A wizened old voice rose up and cleared itself. It belonged to an extremely elderly gray mouse dressed in the traditional robes of the less personality-laden council members. "Minister Taylor Dalmarch, Civic Sciences." A very traditional character, he had served two generations of Acorns in his lifetime, and personally designed many of the city's famous landmarks; including the forum he stood in. He tapped his cane on the floor of his podium lightly, and bowed as far as his arthritic body would let him. "A pleasure, as always, gentlemen… and ladies, of course."

Equally old, but far younger at heart was the council's unusual Minister of Environmental Science, 'Dr.' Ren Maral. No one knew for sure what his credentials really were, but he claimed to be sent on behalf of nature itself. He appeared one day, took the empty podium, and refused to leave until he received his position. Ren was a tall wolf, white with age, but full of smiles and youthful spirit. He leaned on a staff as large as he was, adorned with animal skulls, feathers, and streaks of natural paint. He had, many years ago made possibly one of the most meaningful contributions of all of them; alongside Minister Dalmarch he created The Garden of Life. A ring of nature preserves that encircled the entire perimeter of the city, his project saved countless species from extinction. In his age, he mostly served as the garden's caretaker, but still attended the regular council meetings. The wizened wolf straightened up and announced himself, his voice as deep and strong as all wolven voices were. "Ren Maral, here on behalf of nature, as always. Your turn, my lady."

"Oh, merci!" The twelfth and final of the king's advisors was an exotic woman, in beauty as well as in intelligence. Her fur white from genes, not age, the arctic vixen René Renard was gifted with a silken voice, a shapely figure, and extensive experience in science and diplomacy. She had come to the city as a diplomat, but displayed incredible natural talent for the obscure field of Genetics. The young woman found herself split between duties as a scientist and a diplomat, as well as keeping her social life going. Rumor had it she had a third, nighttime profession that was as exotic as the rest of her; but she was mute on the subject, and a few years before, when the last Minister of Chemistry caller her a related derogatory name during a heated argument she broke his nose and knocked out three of his teeth in a most unladylike way. No one had brought it up since. "Dr. René Renard, Minister of Genetics! Ah, but you all know zat, of course!" She stifled a faint giggle and switched off her microphone in anticipation of the most important member's arrival.

A blast of fanfare from the castle gates, just a hundred feet away from the forum, announced the arrival of the most important member of the council. The massive metal doors of the castle opened to a streaming procession of figures; nobles, advisers, armor-clad guards, and one middle-aged brown squirrel in dark blue military dress; with gold trappings and medals everywhere they could fit. On his dark belt was his family's heirloom, a sheathed long sword adorned with the family seal on the pommel; atop his head was a most impressive crown. This was King Maximillian Acorn, supreme ruler of all Mobian-held lands (and in their opinion, the entire world).

The king gestured to an aide at his side who responded by folding his hands, bowing slightly and stopping. With a slow turn, the procession behind him filed back into the castle, leaving only the king and his two guards. The trio marched to the podium at the head of the circle, much taller and larger than the others, with two places for his private guard to either side of the front. As King Max adjusted his uniform and powered on his microphone and various communication aids in his podium, His guards brandished their spears and stood at attention beside his podium, their clanking plate mail settled on their thin frames, their expressions professionally blank as they lowered the visors of their helms over their eyes, leaving only their mouths showing under their half-helmets.

Dr. Faustian cut his microphone and scowled. Being lesser nobility himself, the king's showy nature grated on his nerves. "Showoff…" He quietly muttered, somewhere between a whisper and a growl.

"Testing." Maximilian tapped his microphone with one finger and adjusted a dial with the other hand. "Very good! As you all know, the Mobian Scientific Council celebrates its 250th anniversary today. I trust you all have a number of intriguing breakthroughs for the occasion, so let's dispense with the formalities and get to the important matters this week. I believe Professor Aden was eager to start so we'll begin with him."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Professor Aden puffed out his chest proudly and shuffled through a set of disks on his podium. "I believe this is the right one, just a moment." He inserted the small black disk into a receptacle in the podium and the holographic display at the center of the forum came to life with chemical equations, and a diagram of what resembled a breastplate in Mobian proportions. "Work on the new polymer armor is making excellent progress. When Your Highness asked me to develop a physical armor to protect our soldiers from gunfire last year, I was initially a bit stumped. I couldn't develop anything capable of stopping a sharpened projectile moving at such incredible speeds. As it stands, the Overlanders' super-high-speed bullets are lethal through all but the heaviest armor, the friction at impact boils blood and causes horrible, lethal trauma. About four months ago, I came upon the idea not to stop the bullet, which seems to be impossible, but to cushion the impact enough that it slows down to speeds the body can survive." The holographic diagrams at the center of the forum reflected his comments as he spoke, displaying diagrams, speed calculations, and video of testing. "The polymer I created for the armor inserts is a soft substance that absorbs the inertia of objects striking it with incredible efficiency. A victim would still suffer a gunshot wound, but the damage would be much more survivable. Once this armor is issued to all troops, the survival rate from a single bullet wound should raise from zero percent, to as much as seventy-five. Provided your own funding and interest in the project holds out, Your Majesty, I can have this in mass-production in a little less than three months."

"Oh how I loathe reporting zis, Herr Professor…" Dr. Faustian interrupted his colleague's speech, cutting in with his microphone. "But you already lost ze funding. His Majesty signed it off to my mechanical soldier project, since once we phase out all organic troops, zere will be no more need for body armor. Oh? Why zat angry face, Professor? Didn't you get ze memo?" His stern face twisted upwards in a malicious grin; he was famous for antagonizing the streetwise rabbit.

Upon realizing his latest project was shot down, again, Professor Aden rightly exploded into a tirade of verbal abuse. "Faustian! You filthy son of-"

King Max swiftly pressed his palm on the large button at his podium console that muted all other microphones. "Enough." A heavy sigh escaped him as he shook his head slightly, long ago tired of the animosity between the two scientists. "Professor Aden, please calm yourself, Doctor Faustian, please refrain from antagonizing your colleagues." He released the mute button, after a moment more of pause.

A soft sigh from the Minister of Chemistry's podium made his feelings evident. "Yes, Your Majesty…"

"Ja, Mein Liege."

"I will provide some funding for this armor project." General Katzenov quietly interjected himself into the conversation; an extremely rare occurrence. "Faustian's toys cannot replace skilled covert agents, and I want my people protected in-mission. Continue development, Professor Aden, the military sector will foot your bill on this one."

"Very good!" The king complimented the cooperation of his advisers and urged the meeting forward with his tone. "Now, speaking of your mechanical soldiers, Doctor, I would like this month's report on it, if it's ready…"

"Ja!" Faustian snapped to attention, eager to show his accomplishments, as always. "For zat, however, I will direct you to my brilliant colleague and partner in zis project, Dr. Kintobor. Doctor?" It was fairly well known that Faustian hated everyone, even his closest partners, but it didn't stop the fox from making himself look good in front of the king at every chance.

"Thank you." Kintobor's raspy voice echoed from his cramped podium as the holographic projector in the center of the forum again came to life. A translucent blue model flickered into existence, showing an Overlander-sized, but Mobian-Proportioned figure; tall but lithe, an oversized, dome-shaped head atop its broad shoulders. "This is the fifth, and we believe, final concept design for the Synthetic WArrior-Type Robot; SWATbot, for short. Standing at two meters, the final model boasts slightly greater agility than the average soldier, but nearly six times the physical strength, and greatly enhanced durability. We have resolved all the existing concerns raised by Your Majesty, and the General, with only two new flaws resulting, both minor. Dr. Faustian has the specifics on that."

"Ah, yes, ze two defects. Most notable is a problem with ze joints. My smaller joint system allows for ze range of motion you demanded, but ze small size of ze parts renders zem prone to water-fouling. However, only ze complex shoulder and hip joints are affected, and only during heavy rainfall or complete submersion. Ze initial prototype run will be affected by zis; future models will feature a protective covering for ze joints."

"The prototype run… that would be only twenty-five units of the Cygnus-series model, yes?" The king folded his hands on the top of his podium and leaned forward, in thought. "That's acceptable, I believe. Carry on."

"Ze second problem lies in ze sensor package. Zere simply exists no array small enough to fit in our allotted space… yet. Our initial run will make due with only a simple camera to process visual information. As we work on an improved sensor package, we can upgrade existing models, but ze Cygnus-series SWATbot will be temporarily blinded if ze camera 'mono-eye' is soiled or damaged. Production should continue on schedule, zis is only a minor problem in ze long run. Future manufacturing runs, such as ze planned Ursa, Gemini, and Draco-series, will not be affected, Your Highness."

"Excellent work, both of you." King Acorn applauded lightly, smiling for the first time all meeting. "I am glad to see the project is nearing completion. I want a showing and demonstration as soon as the first prototype steps off the assembly line."

"As you wish, Mein Liege." Faustian gave a small bow, before looking to another podium, a strong hint of annoyance in his tone. "However, I must remind ze good Professor Notwen zat we STILL lack a suitable weapon system for ze SWATbot…" The cardinal looked to be in tears over being confronted on her stalling again, though Faustian was only pleased at antagonizing two of his peers in one meeting.

"Professor Notwen… Cassi." The king rotated his podium to face her directly, his voice gentle and sincere. "Please believe me when I say that all of us here understand and respect your beliefs. However, we are at war, and, like all of your peers, you took an oath not to let any personal beliefs interfere with your work. You have been a brilliant and inspirational member of this council, but you have until the end of this month to either give me your designs for a suitable energy weapon for the project… or your resignation. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty…" The avian woman looked up at him out of the corner of her eye, offering only a depressed, meek little voice. "I understand. I'll have the prototype ready by the end of the month."

"Very good, then. Now, on a lighter note, I believe Sir Charles has made breakthroughs on his project that he wished to share?"

"Oh, most certainly, Your Highness!" The graying blue hedgehog ruffled his large mustache with a puff of breath as he cleared his throat. "As you all know, for most of the last decade I have been involved in a project of my own design to apply cybernetic technologies to advanced prosthetics. With so many of our soldiers maimed in the war, I have been trying to develop a generic limb replacement that will retain most of the movement of the original."

The hologram at the center of the forum displayed a number of mechanical tools, and early designs for a robotic arm. A number of recorded motion tests displayed in boxes around each design, none of them entirely successful. "The problems were rather daunting from the start. I quickly realized what we all inherently know but never think about; everyone is slightly different. This makes a generic 'catch-all' prosthetic all but impossible. The second, and worst of the problems I encountered was that in order to replicate the functionality of, say, a hand, you would have to not only be constructing some parts too fine to see with the naked eye, but, in the same way our own body repairs and builds itself, one would somehow need to be able to build objects inside of other objects at this scale."

"You may recall a few months ago, when my colleague and partner in this project, Dr. Kintobor unveiled what he referred to as 'nanites'." The display changed to a high magnification of a group of four-legged machines, carrying even smaller metal shapes on their backs, all moving with singular purpose as they constructed a simple shape out of metal. "Nanites are incredibly simple, incredibly tiny robots, capable of executing complex tasks if programmed correctly. Think of them as 'robot cells'. Not much came of the breakthrough at first, due to no practical applications. However, the good doctor thought on it, and eventually came up with a plan to use these nanites to solve the problems that vexed our joint project. Doctor, if you would?" Sir Charles nodded to his close friend, bidding him to explain it better than he himself would.

"Thank you, my friend." The Overlander rasped an explanation of the revolutionary process. "Obviously, to machines as small as nanites, scale is no longer an issue. Programming them to build what we want is a simple matter as well. Our design is for a capsule-like chamber in which the subject stands, or if unable, lays. A computer system will scan and measure all aspects of the subject's body, whereupon it will release millions of these nanites. The nanites will use the computer data to fabricate and attach any needed prosthetics with a level of detail and accuracy that no surgeon could ever achieve." Dr. Kintobor, normally a somber man, spoke with enthusiasm and excitement, clearly proud of what he had helped to achieve. "We call our new invention, the 'Roboticizer'. If our tests are successful, we will have developed a cure for all present and future physical disabilities."

A round of applause echoed through the forum, as the entire council lauded what was potentially one of the greatest achievements in history.


	4. Chapter 2

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter II: **__A Rag-Clad Prophet_

The applause for Sir Charles' Roboticizer endured until the king himself raised his hands to quiet the rest of the council. "Please, ladies and gentlemen of the council, I speak for all of us when I commend Sir Charles and Dr. Kintobor on this monumental breakthrough, but let them finish!" His own excitement was palpable; he, of course, had everything to gain by such a world-changing event occurring under his rule. It was nothing less than the cementing of his personal legacy.

"I should like to see zis 'Roboticizer' in action." Dr. Faustian interjected himself into the discussion, uncharacteristically excited about the work of anyone other than himself. "Do you intend to have a demonstration for us?"

"If that is the wish of the council." The aged hedgehog bowed his head and folded his hands, considering the showing condition of his technology. "I… could have it ready for tentative display later this week. I admit some fascination with how the joints of your mechanical soldiers move as well, Doctor… perhaps we could exchange research notes later?"

Faustian inwardly shook with excitement at seeing the intricacies of this new advance in cybernetics. He clenched his fists so hard that his well-manicured claws began to draw blood; safely hidden from sight in his podium. "Ja… Ja, mein friend." The vulpine engineer smiled outwardly, but it was a grin on the inside. "I am certain I could have zat arranged… Ah!" Faustian abruptly showed his bleeding hand to his colleagues and smiled weakly. "It seems one of zese models of mine is a bit sharp! Majesty, my hemophilia?"

"Of course, Doctor. Go take care of that hand right away; you are excused from the meeting."

Faustian rushed from his podium, his papers and models tucked under his arms as he fled the Forum Gardens with an excited haste.

With Faustian gone, King Max looked over his notes concerning the day's meeting and gave a satisfied nod. "Well. It seems everything has been covered, and we all surely have important work to attend to, so I hereby call this meeting to a close. Thank you all for-"

The king's voice trailed into silence as a repetitive sound drifted into the forum. It was a clicking sound, loud and hollow; the sound of rough wood on smoothed stones. Unmistakably, it was someone with a walking stick. The Forum Gardens were off-limits to the general public during meetings, no one should have been walking about, but even in the morning, the early sun cast long, dark shadows off the many arches and columns that decorated the area and it was not difficult to move unnoticed when desired.

"Who's there?!" King Max demanded from his seat at his special podium. "Is that you, Dr. Faustian?"

"I am not Doctor Reinhardt Faustian." A soft, ethereal voice echoed through the forum as a shadowed figure stepped out from behind a pillar and into the light. He, or she, was clad in purple; a long, hooded robe hid all features, its hems were tattered and insect-eaten, caked with dirt and grime. In the thin, hunched figure's hands was a walking stick made of gnarled old wood and decorated with feathers and lines of fading paint. The robed figure stepped forward, past the podiums and into the very center of the forum, standing over the lens for the holographic projector.

"Then what business have you here?" Becoming slowly irate, the king again demanded an answer from the mysterious guest. "Who are you?"

"No one to be trifled with!" The robed Mobian pointed a bandage-wrapped finger up at the king, answering in the same distant voice as before. Tufts of dark green fur, an extremely unusual color if it was natural, showed through gaps in the wrapped hand. "The Prophet! That is who and what I am. A sayer of doom, one who sees the beginning and end of all things, and so knows the value therein. I represent the honest and true Mobians of Undercity, where I am king."

King Maximillian stood up and glared at the figure before him, narrowing his eyes as his faint black mustache rose in an irritated sneer. "By 'Undercity' I assume you mean the dreadful nickname for Mobotropolis' underground sewer system. If so, I can assure you that you are sorely mistaken indeed, 'Prophet'." Maximillian Acorn had suffered greatly to keep his crown over his already-long life, and challenges to his authority were typically met with well-justified fury. "_I _am the King of this nation, and ruler of this city. That includes the skies above, the ground below it, and everything therein. Therefore, by right, I am the ruler of the unfortunates who dwell in our sewers, _NOT _you!" He pointed down at the soothsayer condescendingly, only to be taken aback as two glowing white eyes looked up at him through the murky black of the hooded, shadowed face of the intruder.

The Prophet laughed; a terrifying, otherworldly noise, and clicked his walking stick with enough force to crack the lens of the displayer he stood upon. "By what right, Majesty? By the will of your people? If you are so beloved by Undercity then why do you hide up here in the light of day while your cherished subjects, too impoverished to see the sun, scrape out a miserable living in the sewers under your very feet? You would do well to try listening to someone other than these scientific fools you surround yourself with."

"Someone such as you?? Bah!" King Max tried to dismiss the argument, but it was obvious that much of the wind had been taken from his sails through the biting truths of The Prophet. He instead sank back into the cushioned seat of his podium and sighed. "It IS true that this war has left many without money or work. However, just because some Mobians are too poor to take residence in the city proper does not mean that they cease to be my subjects. I have spared aid for your 'Undercity' many times. If you are so eager to be heard, old one, then I will hear. Prophets rarely have something good to say, but I will listen, if only out of respect for one so old." His demeanor softened, the regal squirrel adjusted his heavy crown and leaned back into his seat.

"Old. Hmm. Old, indeed." The Prophet gestured dramatically, spreading his arms wide as he issued his prophecy in a fevered tone. "I came this far to give you all a warning, not to waste time in senseless banter! I have seen the doom of this world! You, your dynasty, your precious city and indeed the entire Mobian race is coming to an end!"

"You speak of the war…" King Maximillian's voice trailed into a soft sigh. It was true that the war continued to go extremely poorly, and that more than his nation and life was on the line.

"The Great War? Possibly, yes." The Prophet's glowing eyes narrowed down to thin slits, his voice taking a turn for the darker. "Though there are many other ways in which a world can end, than war… There is a way to save your people from total obliteration, if you truly _do _care for them, your Majesty."

"Oh?" The king raised an eyebrow, no longer taking the robed Mobian seriously. "Please, do tell what you have in mind," he deadpanned.

His unwelcome guest's reply was quick and simple. "Open the Emerald Vault!" The Chaos Emeralds contained behind those doors are capable of changing this world! Give them to me, let me use them… to better the lives of my people, and to eradicate the arrogant Overlanders and end this war!"

"Magic, eh?" Maximillian smirked, impressed with the gall of the soothsayer as much as he was infuriated by it. "You're a wellborn then. You are brave, old one, to admit such a thing in this day and age. There are still those who have not forgotten their history and the ages before technology. It's an interesting proposal, if only for amusement's sake, unfortunately..." The aging king shot to his feet and slammed his hands against the top of his stand within the podium with an uncharacteristically angry burst of youth. "Your plan is _NONSENSE _and you are _INSANE_!" He glared at the doom-saying prophet and growled his answer through clenched teeth. "That vault was sealed long ago for a reason! Even if I knew how to get inside, I would never allow someone like you access to that kind of power! You may as well demand to be crowned king!"

"I take it you refuse my offer of assistance, King Acorn?" The Prophet tilted his head in bemused surprise, ultimately shaking it at the incensed regent. "And you would call _me_ insane…"

"I've had enough of you!" King Max shouted down at his antagonist, his skin flushing red behind his light brown fur. "You interrupt my meeting, you waste the time of my council and myself, you insult me and threaten my people, and then you dare make this ludicrous demand?! Your next vision will come to you inside a prison cell!" He snapped his well-groomed fingers and an additional pair of guards emerged from behind his large podium, joining the two in front. "Guards! Arrest this man on grounds of treason!"

"I gave you a chance, Your Majesty." The Prophet's voices became sinister, his words more threat than warning as he hissed up at the king. "You are not essential, merely convenient. I will go around you if need be. You made your decision; your fates are your own now…" With a frustrated sigh, he pulled his dirty hood farther down his unseen face and turned to walk away.

"Ho there, citizen! Halt!" One of the armor-clad members of the royal guard raised an ornate spear at the robed figure, advancing in front of the others. "You are under arrest!"

"Keep your 'ho theres'!" The rag-clad prophet snapped back at them bitterly, vanishing in a large puff of green smoke as the guardsmen grabbed for him. He was gone without a trace.


	5. Chapter 3

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter III: **__'Nicole'_

Far above the commotion caused by the mysterious prophet, the world was a much more peaceful place. Hundreds of feet above the forum gardens, on the railed observation deck of Castle Acorn's clock tower, the young Sonic Maurice Hedgehog watched the proceedings far below with blissful ignorance. "Hey, Rosie?" The young blue hedgehog leaned dangerously over the rails, pointing down to the commotion in the forum below. "What was that big puff of smoke just now?"

Sonic's daytime guardian, Rosie, was an elderly tree squirrel who had served as the Royal Matron to the Acorn dynasty children for several generations. Her main duty was the care and upbringing of members of the royal family due to the busy and often far-flung work of the nobility. Because Sir Charles was technically a knight and a royal adviser, his nephew and foster son Sonic had also found his way into her day-care. The graying squirrel reached out and pulled the young hedgehog back off of his dangerous perch with an agitated sigh before she looked down at the commotion. "I would say…" Her soft voice was punctuated by the faint sighs of old age, "…that was probably one of Professor Calus' inventions breaking down again. Must have been quite a show, even the guards are out of their posts."

Rosie's other special charge was the daughter of the king himself, oldest child of two at the age of six, Princess Sally Alicia Acorn was next in line for the throne, provided she lost her own overly adventurous side in time. "I like the professor!" The little ground squirrel grinned; leaning over the rails herself to see what was going on, "And all his inventions! Even if they don't always work."

"Ugh, when's class start already?" Sonic complained, his nasal voice only adding to the irritation. "And what kind of game are the grown-ups playin' down there anyway? Looks boring."

"They're not playing a game, stupid!" Sally shook her head at him, pointing down to the forums as she started to explain. "They're having a meeting! It's-"

Her matron cut her of with a glare and one of countless manners corrections. "Sally! Do not use that sort of language with your friends! It's unbecoming of a princess! You should apologize to him."

Realizing his friend was now on the spot, Sonic made faces at her from safely behind Rosie as he waited for her apology.

"I'm… sorry, Sonic. I don't think you… He's making that face!" Sally complained folding her arms and turning away from him. "It's messing me up, Rosie!"

"For over fifty years I took care of children, and not a single gray hair, until…" Rosie's voice trailed off into silence before she said anything she could regret. "Well… It looks like the council is packing up for the day. Let's head down to the forums and start today's class."

"I'll race ya, Sally!" Sonic suddenly vaulted of the lofty tower's railing, free falling without fear or care.

"No, Sonic! Do…" Rosie again fell silent. It was futile to argue when the young hedgehog was already out of earshot. "Why does he always have to do that?"

Mobian children developed much faster than Overlanders did; their larger skulls housed much larger brains. By age ten, Mobians were fairly mature and mentally developed, and at age six Sonic was already too adventurous to control. With an overdeveloped desire for excitement and adventure, the hedgehog boy was constantly at odds with his guardians about what he should do. Running was the only thing that he believed he was good at, and so wherever he could, he ran.

Sonic's father was a brilliant scientist; he had been the Minister of Physics before he died tragically in an accident when Sonic was still too young to remember him. When Jules Hedgehog learned that his newborn child had muscular defects in his legs that could prevent him from walking normally, he put his vast knowledge to work devising a way to ease his son's future life. One such invention was a blend of friction-defying materials that permitted very fast motion at the expense of little energy. He had intended to make a pair of shoes out of this to turn his child's inevitable shuffling slow gait into a normal pace.

After Sonic's father died, the boy passed into the care of Jules' brother, Sir Charles, who continued development of the special shoes. Much to everyone's surprise, Sonic's condition naturally corrected itself as he developed, leaving him perfectly healthy. After receiving the special 'frictionless' shoes as a birthday present instead of a medical aid, the young hedgehog took to running everywhere. His natural talent for sprinting, his special shoes, and the overcompensated development of his tendons and muscles gave him the ability to run at speeds impossible by the fastest vehicles of the day. The world became a giant high-speed adventure for Sonic the Hedgehog.

Sonic had no fear of his fall from the tower; he had in fact done so on many occasions, always without permission. The blue hedgehog boy grabbed the underside of the rail and put a twist to his fall, letting his feet make contact with the side of the tower. Thanks to the special high-friction heels and tips of his shoes and gloves, he clung by the feet to the wall, crouching against it in a sprinting position. Sliding down it slowly, the morning sun met the corner of his eye as he looked back over his shoulder to the sky, partly hidden by the balcony directly above him. With the light of the morning to his back, Sonic burst into a full sprint, defying gravity further as he ran across the vertical face of the clock tower, spiraling down the circular structure at breakneck speeds, a faint trail of smoke rising along his wake as the friction only present in the tips of his shoes burned the stone at his feet. He leapt off at the base of the tower and rolled to a spiraling stop at the bottom doors of the elevator, where he sat until his friend and their teacher made it down a minute later. "Beat ya!" He proclaimed his victory as if they'd ever had a chance, or had even intended to participate.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, Sonic." Rosie scolded him with the same futile routine she had used for as long as they had known one another. The princess, on the other hand, was content simply to stick her tongue out at him from out of their mentor's sight as they walked past him towards the forum.

"But I can do it! No one else can, so why not do it?"

"Having the ability to do something does not always mean you _should _do it, young man." The raspy voice of Doctor Kintobor admonished him as the obese Overlander passed by on his way to his lab. "Ah! You're Sonic, aren't you? Sir Charles' boy. He always talks about you when we are working together. Tell me, boy, what do you want to be when you grow up? Perhaps a scientist, like your uncle?" Dr. Kintobor was famously fond of the race that saved his life, and, unlike most of his species, had a very friendly, if not a little dry and scientific personality. He folded his arms and looked down at the young hedgehog, hoping to inspire the boy to expand beyond his limited thoughts.

Sonic shook his head adamantly, dismissing the very notion of such a career. "Nope! Not me, I wanna be a soldier when I grow up, like my hero, Captain Harrison! He's cool!"

"Hmm." Julian pondered his young friend for a moment, the red lights in his black metal eyes blinking on and off. "I'll have you know, Science can be 'cool' too. But nevertheless, soldiering is an honorable career, and Captain Harrison is indeed a good role model. He saved my life where others probably would not have, you know. No matter what you may decide to do, Sonic, remember to always think for yourself. Often, the best thing to do for everyone is one of the more unappealing and unpopular choices. This war has taught me that much. I wish you luck in being a good soldier, my little friend…" The doctor walked on past him, but paused and turned back to add, "However, I hope you never have to be. Good day." With that, he continued on his way.

Sonic raced to the forum just in time to see the other students making their way to Rosie's class. As the Royal Matron, Rosie was responsible for many other children, not just Sonic and Sally. There was a war orphan there, a ward of the state and so he too fell under her care. A year older than Sonic and Sally, Rotor Walrus was exactly the species his family name implied. Already gifted with a budding aptitude for mechanical problems and engineering, he idolized the Scientific Council, and aspired to serve on it when he was older. He was usually part of Sonic and the princess' circle of friends, and was easygoing enough to participate in either's idea of fun.

A less capable tag-along member of Sonic's circle was a young noble named Antoine D'Coolette, the child of an important coyote dignitary from far off-lands. He spent much of his time with Sonic, despite the fact that the hedgehog boy made fun of his thick accent and cowardly nature, mostly because he had burgeoning romantic interest in the princess, who was almost always with him. Though he was more likely to run screaming at the first sign of trouble, the young coyote was beginning to learn the value of being dependable and trustworthy. His aspiration was, ironically, to become a knight.

"Good morning, children." Rosie smiled to her four students as she wheeled a blackboard out of a storage building on the outskirts of the forum. "The council was running late again, I'm afraid. I'll be a little while getting the class set up if you'd like to play until then."

Sally had found her way into her father's podium and needed no further incentive to role-play her future position, flicking the microphone on and hoisting herself up to reach the transmitter. "I hereby call this meeting to order! Take your positions, everyone. Professor Rotor, have you anything to report?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Rotor commandeered a podium of his own and delivered a mock report, clearing his throat before he began in his best scientific voice. "My research has led to the early development of a machine that will do homework for us on its own. Simply put the work in and it will come out finished by the next day!"

"Very good!" Princess Sally applauded at her playmate's inventiveness. "Keep me informed on the details as soon as possible! Sir D'Coolette, how is the war with the Overlanders progressing?"

For a moment, Rosie paused in preparing the class, a wave of sadness passing through her. She hadn't thought about it before then, but to the children the war was an endless and ever-present concept. None of them had any idea what 'peace' really even meant, or why it was important.

Antoine climbed up to a podium and fiddled with the controls until his voice was broadcasting. "Ze war ees going splendidly, my queen!" His grating voice and thick accent were only magnified by the microphone he rambled into. "My troops are… how do you say? Back-pushing ze Overlanders on all fronts! You can expect a full surrender in as leetle as a week!"

"Yeah, from you, maybe!" Sonic had snuck into a podium of his own for the sole purpose of heckling the coyote.

"Ugh!" Princess Sally shut off his microphone remotely at her console and chastised him. "If you're not gonna play, Sonic, then don't interrupt! Thank you for your positive report, Sir D'Coolette; you are truly the bravest knight in the kingdom."

Rosie opened the door of the princess' commandeered podium quietly, smiling to her and beckoning her outside with a wave of her hand. "I'm sorry to cut your game short, Sally, but it seems you have a visitor."

Professor Arthur Calus, Minister of Mathematics and the princess' occasional tutor had returned to the Forum Garden while the children were playing. Upon leaving the podium, the princess found him standing beside Rosie, a smile upon his face and a package in his arms. "Ah, there you are! I, err… I'm very pleased to see you following in your father's footsteps so cheerfully." The bespectacled squirrel blushed and stuttered as he so often did when speaking.

"Thank you, Professor!" Sally curtsied in her bright blue dress and smiled up at him. "It's nice to see you! Are you going to stay and help with the lessons today?"

"Awww," he frowned slightly, "I-I wish I had time to today, b-but err… you see I've been tasked with debugging computer code for Julian and Sir Charles' big project. It's very important." Calus tucked the package under his shoulder to free his hands so he could clean his glasses on his coat tails, his eyes losing focus as soon as his glasses came off; he was famously myopic without them. "However!" He replaced his glasses atop the bridge of his muzzle and smiled again through buck teeth as he offered the princess the box he had been carrying. "I do have just enough time to give you this! It's a present from your father and I. He's very pleased with your grades, and you are my favorite student!"

At her age, the princess was always overjoyed to receive gifts; however she was slightly dubious of anything the professor had any hand in. Nonetheless, she accepted the wrapped box and began carefully opening it, smiling politely to her tutor. "Oh, thank you very much, Professor Calus… but aren't I your only student, as well?"

"Ah, that's true, isn't it?" Professor Calus raised a finger in realization before he put it to rubbing under his chin in contemplation. "Hm. Uhh, well, even if you, you uhh, weren't my only student, I'm positive you would still be my favorite! Ha ha! Get it? Positive! It's math humor!" He burst into laughter, but stopped after a moment when his voice cracked and he choked slightly. "Erm, ahem."

"Yes… well." Sally raised an eyebrow to him and opened the unwrapped package. Inside was a small, hand-sized blue metallic object, an electronic device of some sort. "Oh my. This looks very pretty, and it's my favorite color! Thank you, Professor, but… what is it exactly?"

"Why, it's a computer, Princess!" The brown squirrel clasped his hands together and grinned as if it were an incredibly obvious fact. "Y-your father, uh, he told me you had been taking an interest in them lately, so I took the liberty of finishing an old project of mine that might fit the bill! It flips open right here, see? This is a palmtop computer of my own design, the only one of its kind! Well, uh, for the time being anyway! This one is a gift to you, and if you find it handy, I intend to mass-produce them. She's waterproof, impact-resistant, and the solar charging system means you never have to change the battery. I thought it would be an excellent learning assistant for you."

"Oh, that really is very thoughtful!" Princess Sally had recently taken an interest in computers and electronics of all kinds, and as such, her excitement piqued when she realized the magnitude of what she was given. "Thank you very much, Professor, but you addressed the computer as 'she'?"

"Why yes, yes I did," the professor answered, "because, you see, this computer also has an advanced artificial intelligence program I wrote myself, just for you! Since you are, uhh, well, a girl, I thought you'd want it to be a girl AI as well!" He scratched the back of his head, blushing again and shrugging his shoulders slightly. "She's quite brilliant, and she's capable of being an assistant and friend for the rest of your life, if you wish. I designed her with you in mind. She can talk to you, and perform all sorts of functions. I pre-loaded all sorts of maps, books, and, um, all sorts of other things like that into her memory for you, but she can show you how to add more when you like. Sh-she doesn't have a real name, yet, sadly. I code-named her 'Arthura' because she's a girl and, well, my name is-"

"Yes, Professor." Rosie sighed from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and gesturing to the other children. "This is very nice of you, but class is starting in just a few minutes."

"Ah, quite right! T-terribly sorry, Rosie! I really should be going, Sally."

The princess curtsied to him again and waved. "Goodbye, Professor! Thank you very much for the thoughtful gift! I hope your work today does better than this morning!"

"Hmm?" Professor Calus tilted his head, turning back to face her. "What do you mean?" His confusion broke as it dawned on him what she referenced. "Oh! You mean that little explosion and the smoke? Oh, no, no, no, that… that wasn't me this time!" He struck a thoughtful pose, pushing up his glasses with a finger before rubbing his muzzle thoughtfully. "You know, that was very odd, come to think of it. There was a strange man that came to the council today; he was the cause of the commotion. I… don't really know what he was on about. Your father spoke to him at length, though! Maybe he can tell you more. Have fun with your lessons, Sally!"

With Professor Calus departed and Rosie taking roll call, the princess was free to explore her present for a few moments. She opened it carefully, addressing it quietly. "Hello? Computer?"

The small display of the palmtop computer blinked on as text scrolled across. Sally could make out some of the words, but most of the computer jargon was beyond her understanding. "Hello, Princess Sally Acorn. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"You really can talk!" The little ground squirrel was amazed at the potential of her new computer. "Wait… you can recognize my voice as well?"

"Yes. I am programmed to respond specifically to your commands." The computer even had a female voice, though it was somewhat monotone, and lacked emotion.

"Hmm. You need a name." Sally thought it over for a moment. "What kind of computer are you?"

"I am a New-Intelligence Computer Organizer: Limited Edition."

"N.I.C.O.L.E." The princess spelled it out to herself as she took a seat on the polished stone floor of the forum alongside the other children. "Okay, I'll call you Nicole!"

"Understood, my name is Nicole." An empty text field at the top of the screen blinked several times before the name 'NICOLE' appeared in broad, capital letters on it.

"All right class." Rosie had donned her reading glasses and stood before a wheeled blackboard, her lesson notes outlined for the children. "It is time for class to begin." Sally's exploration of her new computer would have to wait.


	6. Chapter 4

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter IV: **__'The Reason Why'_

Encircling the city of Mobotropolis like a band of lush green, The Garden of Life bordered the city on every side. Through the tireless efforts of hundreds of ecologists and the direction of Minister Ren Maral, countless species of plants and animals had been safely transplanted there, saving them from possible extinction. Although it was a roundabout way to go, Dr. Lorne Lockheart often made his way through a portion of it on his way to the hospital every morning. It was a pleasant journey, and it gave him time to talk with his old friend.

"What did you make of that strange fellow this morning, Ren?" Lorne walked alongside the old wolf as the wandered down a verdant path, lined with trees and surrounded by the chirp of birds and insects.

The old wolf paused to think, leaning on his tall staff. A large green bird landed on the head of the pole, settling down and spreading its vibrant plumage above him; no fear or distrust of the other creatures in its environment. "The old prophet? Hmm... That man was a curious person. I feel as though I should recognize him, though we've never met before." Ren's voice was rough from age, though his rumbling tone belied a very keen insight.

"Never met! Never met!" The green bird mimicked his words in a shrill squawk, tilting its head down to look at them. This amused the old wolf to some degree.

"…And much like our feathered friend here," Ren carried on gesturing up to the bird poised on the tip of his staff, "His words were meaningless. He paid no mind to what he said; he wanted us to see him, not to hear."

"So his prophecy carries no weight, you think?" Lorne stepped out of the way of a pair of small furry mammals that dashed past his feet from one bush into another. "I'd hate to think that this grand city could ever be destroyed."

"I did not say that his words were untrue, simply irrelevant to his purpose." Ren lifted his staff and brought it back down again, bothering the bird atop it enough to fly away. "Make no mistake, my old friend, this city will not last forever. Just as all things are born and die, so do those things that are inanimate. It is a part of the great cycle of being. But it is not to be mourned. Mobotropolis is beautiful, yes, and good. But even the first settlers here knew that one day there would be grander cities." With the use of his staff returned to him, the old wolf continued his morning walk.

Lorne thought about his friend's words to him, but he felt that there was more the white wolf wouldn't say. "But, Ren!" He caught up to his long-time mentor and slowed back down to match his pace. "If the fires of war find our city, won't your garden burn with it?"

"Yes. Yes it would, Lorne. But you see… that too is part of life. Nature uses fire much as you and I use water to bathe. It washes away the old growth, so that new, young life can take root and reach its full potential." With a soft grunt of exertion and the creak of age, Ren sat down on a smooth stone bench along the pathway, resting and admiring the wildlife preserve he had spent so long making work. "Even I know that my garden will not last forever. One day it will fall into ruin, but I care not. Just as we, too, cannot go on for eternity, neither can our works, no matter how grand. Though it is certain that The Garden of Life will not be around forever, I do know that there will always be gardens, and there will always be life. That is consolation enough for one such as me. But enough of such things. Come, sit for a while and talk. How is your wife doing?"

Lorne dusted off the other side of the bench and sat down with a sigh. "Reiha is doing all right. The baby is coming soon, though. I just… I worry about having a family in these times. We're at war. People are dying every day."

"People die every day, Lorne, whether there is a war or not." Ren balanced his staff on the side of the bench and pointed out to the bushes before them. "Look there." A small white creature, with four long, pointed ears and large feet hopped forth from the bushes and stared a moment before it took to bouncing around erratically, turning and twisting its fluffy body in the air. "See that lago there? She lost her mate a few days ago."

"What's she… doing?" Lorne tilted his head, unsure of the point of the creature's actions, or his friend's lesson.

"Mourning. Very cheerful mourning, isn't it? All lago dance this way when they lose a mate or children. Now, why do you suppose that is?"

"It's… an animal." Lorne scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is not intelligent or advanced enough to understand what death is."

Ren leaned back against the bench and sighed softly. "Perhaps. It is possible that they do not understand what we do." The old wolf closed his eyes and stretched, tired from his exposition and the long walk in his gardens. "But perhaps the lago know something that we do not." He fell silent and did not speak again; his polite way of ending the visit without having to say goodbye.

"I… see, I think. Thank you for the advice, Ren, even if it's as veiled as always." Lorne stood up and picked up his doctor's bag. Before he continued on his way to work, he took one last glance back at the little lago by the bushes, dancing so excitedly in memory of her mate.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the city, matters of less philosophy and more intrigue were taking place within the throne room of Castle Acorn. King Max and General Katzenov broke from the royal entourage for a private council in his chambers. The king gestured to the two armor-clad silent sentinels that stood at the doors, pointing outside. "Leave us." Without a word, the guards shouldered their spears and left, closing the heavy double doors behind them. The squirrel king removed his heavy crown and tucked it under his arm, taking a seat upon his opulent throne. "These are serious accusations, Nikolai. You are sure, then?"

General Katzenov drew shut the opulent purple drapes that hung about the throne room's lofty picture window; their discussion was for no one else to hear or see. "I do not make such claims lightly, Your Highness." The hulking tiger took off his dark glasses and narrowed his yellow feline eyes, pacing the carpeted room slowly. "Two days ago, at approximately 08:00 hours, my agents acquired plans and technology in transit to an Overlander research institute. This technology was military grade, top-secret, and perhaps most alarmingly… ours."

The king sighed heavily, putting his chin in his hand and contemplating the ramifications. "How top-secret?"

"Officially, none of it exists." The tiger answered in his cold, professional tone. "The only people who had access to those schematics are you, me, and the other eleven members of the Scientific Council." He fished in the pocket of his dark suit for a small, white paper cylinder. He struck a match on his sleeve and lit the paper at one end, inhaling and exhaling the smoke slowly and thoughtfully as he paced the room, planning his move. Many soldiers had taken to smoking cigarettes to calm nerves; it was a bad habit picked up on the frontlines from watching the Overlanders do the same.

"I just can't believe this. How could this happen? Why would one of them want to do this?" King Max stared at the floor in disbelief of the evidence, his expression heavy and sad.

"It's your call, sire. I can bring a full investigation to bear within five hours."

"No, no." The king looked up, his plans beginning to form in his mind. "If they don't know we know… then an investigation will only tip our hand and give them time to cover their tracks. We need to do this under the table. You handle this one with your resources, Nikolai; I don't want to know the details. By the way…" His voice took an irritated turn as he noticed the smoldering ashes on his carpet. "How many times have I told you not to smoke those noxious things in my throne room?"

"My apologies, it's a bad habit of mine." Nikolai put the burning cigarette out in the calloused pad of his palm, extinguishing the embers in a puff of black smoke and an unpleasant burning odor. "Sire, if I may, I believe it may help us single out who the traitor is if we investigated the facility our technology was to be received at. I can put the Hellcats on it, if you wish."

"Your special operations team? I thought they were on the frontlines."

"They are," The tiger replaced his sunglasses upon his face. "But I can change that with a call."

"Do it."

Unbeknownst to the king and his advisor, they were indeed being listened in on. Class had ended for the morning, and Princess Sally Alicia Acorn had returned home, to the castle. As with any child her age, so surrounded by intrigue and politics, she had already developed the important skill of eavesdropping.

The most important thing she had ever picked up by her spying was that eavesdropping on her father generally gave up exciting, or at least interesting information. This time was no exception. She sat outside; her ear pressed to one of the heavy metal doors of the throne room with Nicole resting in her lap. "Wow… You're getting all this, right Nicole?" She whispered quietly to her computer. Giving her something that could be used as a recording device was a mistake.

"Yes Sally, the entire conversation is being stored in my memory." Nicole responded in a voice too loud for the princess' tastes. Fearing she would be found out, Sally tucked the computer away and stood back up, lifting the hems of her blue dress so she could flee the scene before anyone could find out she'd been listening in.

It was several minutes before she felt she had gotten away safely, now lying in her room, the door closed, locked, and the conversation playing back for her to go over again. "I can't believe this, Nicole! If there's really a spy in the council, then who could it be?"

"I do not know." Nicole answered her rhetorical question. "It will likely become very public if the traitor is found out. You are certain to know then."

"What, you think we can just wait for General Katzenov to find them? That big dummy won't figure it out, daddy's going to need my help! This is the perfect setting for an adventure; it's just like in a story!" Sally closed up her computer companion and put her in a backpack; going about her room and gathering various items she felt might come in handy. "Let's see, who should come along? Sonic of course, he'd be perfect for this sort of thing… I should take Rotor along, too, and…"

There was a soft knock on her door. "Are you home from class already, dear? May I come in?"

"Gah!" The princess gasped in surprise, stuffing her backpack under the bed. "Y-yes, daddy, please do!"

The turn of the key in the lock preceded him as the heavy wooden door swung open slowly, creaking from age. "Good morning, Bean." He referred to his daughter by his pet name for her. "Or should I say 'good day'? It's beginning to creep towards midday. "Did you have a nice time in class?"

It was not uncommon for them to spend a little while together every morning after classes; it was hard to work much free time into the royal schedules. "I did. We learned about all sorts of things. Professor Calus gave me this computer!" She pulled her backpack back out from under the bed and showed him the computer inside.

"Ah, yes! I remember him showing me this as well. I knew it would be something you would like, my dear." King Max brushed his hand through his daughter's hair, offering her a hug. "You're so intelligent, so savvy with new things, just like your mother was. I see you've packed up some of your things! Planning on taking a vacation, are you?" He chuckled softly.

Sally laughed with him, albeit nervously. "Oh! Yes, that. No, I was just going to go out and play; I thought I'd like to bring something to eat and some of my other things!" He had never caught on to the fact that she became notably more verbose and polite when she was lying. She tried to change the subject. "Daddy… could you tell me about the war?"

"Ah." The king sat down on the bed, frowning a little. "The war. I assume that's what you must have discussed in class today?"

"Yes." Sally climbed into her father's lap, his expression making her immediately regret her choice of topic. "The war has been going on for a long time, now, right?"

"Grandfather was king when it started. I believe Rosie was just a child then, so that would be... around seventy years or so, yes."

"Why are we fighting them, though?" Sally looked up into her father's eyes, her head tilted in youthful curiosity. "Rosie wouldn't tell me."

"She can't tell you." King Max sighed, heavily. "She doesn't know. Nor do I. Nor does anyone, it seems. Everyone old enough to really remember what started the war is dead."

"Then why keep fighting?"

"Because grown ups are silly people, dear." The king held his daughter, resting her head on his chest and stroking her hair. She couldn't see his eyes water. "Children can forgive so quickly… but grown ups, we have…" He mulled over his choice of words, searching for the right way to explain 'hate' and 'revenge' to his six-year-old daughter. "We have a hard time letting go of things, sometimes."

"You mean mother, right?" The little ground squirrel looked up at her father. Seeing him faintly crying, she realized the subject was best left alone. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…"

"N-no, Bean. It's quite all right." Maximillian Acorn never ceased to be impressed by his daughter's natural insight. "You're right. That's exactly why I can't forgive the Overlanders. I would like to forgive. I wish this war could end today. But then I think back to the day she died, and… it makes me so angry."

This notion disturbed the little girl to some extent. She had always thought of the war as ever-present in her life, but never-ending was a different thing in a way. "Then the war won't ever end? Do you think I'll have to fight the war too? Sonic and Antoine want to be soldiers, will they have to fight?"

The king looked away, up to the stone ceiling of the room. Should he lie, tell her that everything was going to be fine? How could he tell his daughter that the world outside the sheltered city was a war zone, and that total extinction was fast becoming the likely end? Perhaps the truth could indeed be told in a comforting way. "No, Bean. You and you friends won't have to fight. I believe that this war will come to an end soon, and then there will be no more fighting." He lifted her from his lap and sat her on the bed beside him before he stood. "You should go play, dear."

"You still seem sad though, daddy. Why don't you come and play too?"

"Hm." This amused the old king slightly, and he smiled a little. "That would be delightful, my dear, but I have too much to attend to. I should also go and see your baby brother. He may be a third your age, but he still needs the attention just as much."

"Oh! All right, say hello to Elias for me, won't you?" Princess Sally smiled and waved to her father as he left. The moment to door closed, however, her smile faded into a frown and he shoulders sunk with a heavy sigh. She looked down at the computer beside her on the bed. "Now we've just _got _to catch that spy, Nicole. Daddy's never happy anymore, if he didn't have to worry about this he could go and play and cheer up!"

"I am programmed to assist you in any manner that I can, Sally." Nicole gave her emotionless, but implicit, agreement.

"All right!" Sally picked up her electronic ally and hopped to her feet. "That's the spirit, Nicole! Let's go get Sonic and the others! It's time to have an adventure for _real_!"


	7. Chapter 5

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter V: **__'The Search'_

Market Square had been a part of life in Mobotropolis for more than a generation. When a fire had wiped out a section of city, the monarchy leveled the ruins, squared it off and designated it as a commerce center, letting the people remake it with their own hard earned money. It was a self-paying, self-fulfilling project that had earned Civic Science Minister Taylor Dalmarch great respect.

As the name implied, Market Square was a series of progressively smaller sets of squares, moving towards the center of the rebuilt city section. Each square was lined with shops on both sides, and wide avenues for citizens to pass to the next tier of shops. Thousands of enterprising citizens had built and rented stalls to sell anything and everything, and depending on the seller and their ability to hide in the packed crowds, one could find anything from the incredibly mundane to the highly illegal on sale.

For one Mobian fox, shouldering his way through the wall to wall crowds of Market Square, the highly illegal was exactly what he was hunting for. He was clearly not a local citizen in his heavier, cold-climate clothing. The fox's build, among many other things was hidden beneath the long, armored coat that was a symbol of his profession; bounty hunter.

In the late years of the Great War, bounty hunting came to prominence. As the world outside Mobotropolis became war-torn, the crown became increasingly unable to enforce the law. Those living in cities without a Royal Guard barracks often turned to vigilante justice when a serious crime was committed. Some particularly unsavory characters wound up with substantial prices on their heads. Bounty hunting was considered to be war profiteering by the royal family, and it was illegal within the borders of Mobotropolis. However, this did not necessarily mean they did not operate there.

"Rebecca, do you read me?" He raised a hand to his small earpiece to contact his handler.

"Loud and clear, Kurtis." A soft voice answered back. "The stall you're looking for is dead ahead. If my information is right, you knock five times fast, two times slow."

The fox did as instructed, tapping the closed shutter of a dirty, abandoned looking stall and leaning in to listen amid the noise of the packed crowds. A small hand, dirty and gray, slipped under the shutter from inside and lifted it slightly. "Yeah-yeah, who're you? Whatcha want?"

"Name's Kurtis Prower. I hear you sell information… and guns. I want some of the former. I want to ask you about a wolf named Vincenze Richelieu."

There was a moment of quiet wheezing from within the stall, and then the dirty hand began to close the shutter back. "Don't know any Kurtis, don't know any Vince. Go away."

Kurtis drew a thin, silvery handgun from his long coat and slid the barrel under the shutter before it could close completely; keeping his body close to the stall to hide his weapon from the passing crowds. "Maybe you know my friend, here."

There was another moment of soft, wheezing breaths inside. "Okay. Gimme a second and I'll let ya in. We'll talk in private."

Kurtis holstered his firearm and waited, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible in his conspicuous clothing. His patience wore thin after nearly a minute of silent waiting, and at the sound of a door creak and retreating footfalls, he'd finally realized that he'd been had. With subtlety no longer an option, he drew his gun again and shot off the shutter latch, dispersing the now panicked shoppers in the process. "Don't make me chase you!" He shouted after his fleeing informant on the other side, tearing open the damaged shutter to give chase.

As expected, the inside of the stall before him was bristling with illegal weapons. Guns of any kind were completely forbidden in Mobotropolis, but more pressing to Kurtis was the primed grenade, lying on the sill in front of him. The fox reflexively threw himself backwards, but the sudden blast sent him sprawling with far less grace than he'd intended.

He regained focus moments later, in the broken remains of a fruit stand opposite the now flattened stall. It had only been a concussion grenade, he realized as he staggered up through the nausea and pain. Faint rivulets of blood trickled from his ringing ears and burning nose, the capillaries ruptured from the concussive shock wave. He'd gotten sloppy, and survived by getting lucky on top of it. The informant had likely grabbed the first grenade he'd touched on the way out. From the weapons he'd seen before the stall collapsed in the explosion, it could have just as easily been something much more lethal.

Kurtis collapsed again as he slogged through the remains of the black market stall, his vision blurred and his balance shaky. "Rebecca!" he shouted into his earpiece microphone, all sense of loudness lost from the temporary ear injury. "He's getting away from me, on foot, north out of the markets! Cut him off and push him into the back alleys! Pick me up on the way if you can!" He was in no state to give chase until his head stopped spinning, and the now desolate marketplace would soon be crawling with Mobotropolis' ever-present Royal Guard. Things were about to get difficult.

A wheeled vehicle roared though the emptied marketplace at high speeds, turning to a screeching stop beside him. It was clearly Overlander-made, three large, wide wheels in a single track under the motorcycle-like chassis, armor plated and obviously heavily modified from whatever its original purpose may have been. The driver, a vixen of similar age and similar costuming sported an automatic weapon slung over one shoulder and a heavy pilot's helmet, likely modified from an Overlander piece as well. She helped her partner up and onto the cycle before revving the smoke-belching engine and taking off in pursuit of their target. "You okay?" Her voice came in through his headset, muffled slightly by her tight helmet.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be all right." Kurtis withdrew a small hypodermic from a pouch on the side of the vehicle and took a shot of adrenaline in the arm to return him to peak performance. "There he is!" A shadow darted into a nearby alleyway and the roaring vehicle made a swinging turn to chase him through the narrow alleys. Motorized vehicles were not permitted in the city, but for those who operated outside the law in the first place, effectiveness trumped legality. "Run him down a dead end if you can, babe, I'll take to the roofs!" Kurtis stood up on the back of the motorcycle and took aim with a grappling gun at an overhead pipe connecting two buildings. The heavy cord wrapped around the pipe and deployed the hooks from its tip, biting into the pipe and releasing gouts of steam. With the momentum of the motorcycle beneath him, Kurtis leapt forward and retracted the line, swinging through the air in a tight arc and landing atop the rusty steam pipe with a loud clang. The adrenaline keeping pain and dizziness away, he ran across the pipe with trained balance and disengaged his ascension gun, returning it to his heavy belt beneath his coat.

It was then he got the first actual look at the Mobian they were after. He was a middle aged rat, short, stumpy, and putting on weight. His fur and clothing were dirty and grey, and he ran through the alleyways terrified, screaming at each piece of debris or wall he bumbled past in fear of what chased him. Kurtis flagged his companion down a nearby alley and drew his sidearm, racing over the broad, short rooftops of the poor district in pursuit. "He can't run forever, Rebecca! Shoot to wound, if you have to!"

The fleeing rat raced down the alleyways, blind as to his route and oblivious to all but the thought of escape. He turned into a three-way junction, and, skipping the dead end alley on his side, ran straight into the butt of Rebecca's gun, clocking him across the jaw as she sped by. He spiraled to the ground in pain, stunned, blood running from the corner of his dirty mouth. He spit a small tooth and rose again, despite the injury, heading back the way he came only to find a spray of automatic fire as the mounted hunter sped past again on the other side. "No! It's too fast!" He spun back, looking for escape; the only way out not covered by the vixen on the motorcycle was an old drain pipe to the roofs of the one-story buildings around him.

He barely got to head-height with the roof before the heavy toe of Kurtis' boot caught him under the chin, sending him back to the wet alley floor with a loud thud. "Hope you like having a concussion too, smart guy. I've got him, Rebecca." Kurtis slid down the pipe, landing next to the downed rat. "You gonna come quietly yet?"

The rat burst to his feet and made a dazed run for it out of the alley, only to stop back in the middle of the T-junction as Rebecca pulled to a stop on her motorcycle in front of him, weapon trained on him, her helmeted head shaking a negative to his attempt. With no way out except through the fox behind him, he drew a small pistol and spun to fire. A single shot rang through the alleyway, but it was not from his weapon. The rat stared down at his empty hand in wide-eyed disbelief; his handgun bent and mangled on the ground from a single, well-placed shot. With no choice left, he fell to his knees in surrender.

Kurtis blew on the barrel of his pistol and smirked smugly, twirling the gun in his hand and returning it to his coat with the same blinding speed that he had drawn it.

"I…I-I-I don't know nothin'!" The defeated rat whimpered. "I-I'm just a businessman!"

"Businessmen," Kurtis picked up the rat by his dirty suit collar and pressed him to the wall, stumpy legs kicking and flailing in the air, "don't _grenade_ people for asking questions, I don't care _what_ business they're in!" He shook the rat roughly, for emphasis. "You think I don't already know who you are, punk? You're Verkis Gadd, a small time weapons dealer and low-level information broker for organized crime! Punks like you can't even keep me in my lifestyle, I'm not here for a couple mobium some disgruntled dealer put on your head, and I already told you I just want information!"

Verkis panted, both relieved to not be the target he'd assumed to be, and to breathe through Kurtis' rough handling. "Ah… ah… alright! Okay! I-I do know Vince; he came by a few nights ago. He wanted to buy, but I didn't have what he wanted, and he couldn't pay anyway. He was runnin' from something, probably you…"

"What did he want to buy? What was he looking for?"

Verkis shook his head frantically, "I can't tell you that, I'm a broker! All my info is confidential, if I told people anything, no one would buy from me again! You'd ruin me!"

"I'll do more than ruin you if you don't talk." Kurtis gripped the rat by his neck and drew his gun, shoving the barrel down the rodent's gasping throat. "I'll _kill_ you."

"Kurtis!" Rebecca took off her helmet, her long black hair falling free around her as she climbed off the motorcycle. "That's murder; we don't have a writ for this guy's death!"

In spite of her reasoning, Verkis was convinced enough to try to shake his head in a negative and gurgle a reply past the gun. "Then he'd better start talking." Kurtis slid the gun out of his mouth and menaced him with it.

"Okay! O-okay!" The rodent informant hit the floor of the alley with a thud and sat, catching his breath. "He wanted some information. Said somebody was after him, he wanted to know if I could smuggle him out of the kingdom." He shook his head slowly, eyes still locked on the barrel of the gun pointed at him. "I don't traffic people, and I don't know nobody who does, so I told him I couldn't help him. He left."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know where he went! Undercity, probably! It's our name for the sewers. I don't go down there 'cause I don't wanna get killed, but I know guys like him sometimes go there to hide out." Verkis shrugged, working up a nervous chuckle. "It's… it's pretty dangerous down there, shouldn't go unprepared! Perhaps you'd like to peruse some of my fine merchandise… whatever didn't blow up…" There was an awkward pause as he cast a glance over the vulpine bounty hunter's shoulder. "…awww, for Harvester's sake…"

Kurtis turned to face an array of spear points and a number of Royal Guardsmen. "Mister Kurtis Prower." Their leader, a tall, teal-blue hedgehog removed his helmet and ran a hand through his quills, lowering his spear and trying back his unruly quills with a red bandana as he recited a memorized set of lines. "Captain Cole, Royal Guard Corps, Civic Division. His Majesty appreciates your role in capturing this wanted criminal, but regrets to inform you that as per the War Profiteering Act, Article Three, Section-

"I'm under arrest, yes, I know." Kurtis handed over his gun and put out his hands for restraint. "I've been through this a couple times, let's save the trouble."

"As you wish. We thank you for your cooperation." The hedgehog directed his subordinate to bind the bounty hunter's wrists, stepping back and putting a finger to the radio receiver in his ear. "Excuse me one moment." Captain Cole turned away to converse with the party on the other end of the line. The conversation seemed to be very one-sided, and not just because Kurtis could only hear the Captain's end.

"Captain Cole here. Yes. Yes sir, I have him right here, he's restrained and… But sir! I… he's right here! I have him; he's been arres… yes. Yes sir. But I don't understa… uh, yes. Yes sir. Immediately, sir. Cole out."

The guard captain gave a heavy sigh and turned, head shaking, to face his prisoner. He swiftly un-cuffed him and offered his firearm back. "Well, today must be your lucky day. You are free to go. Please leave the city as soon as possible."

"I'm a little… confused, here." Kurtis eyed the hedgehog with slight suspicion, holstering his returned gun.

"You're just letting us leave?" Rebecca received her helmet back from one of the guards; her bright eyes alight with curiosity. "That's not exactly what we're used to."

"Those are my orders, regardless. You are pardoned." Captain Cole adjusted his bandana for comfort and replaced his half-helmet, lowering the visor over his eyes. "I believe my superior will want to speak to you about it all, in due time."

"All right. I'd like to meet this guy." Kurtis climbed on the back of the motorcycle and kicked up the stand. "How do we get in contact with him?"

"He will get in contact with you."

----------

Far across the city, a gathering of figures unconcerned with the intrigues of criminals and political dealings were coming together. Princess Sally Acorn sat on the steps of the Forum Gardens, consulting her computer and waiting for her friends to arrive. She'd managed to find Sonic, and sent him to gather everyone else; whether he was reliable enough to do so was the question on her mind as she waited.

One by one, they came together. Sonic was the first to arrive, skidding to a screeching stop at the top of the steps and waving. "Hey! I did it! Everyone said they're on the way, even Antoine!" The short blue hedgehog took a seat on the marble steps beside his friend, tapping his sneaker-ed foot idly. "What's with the outfit? Come ta think of it, what are we doin' anyway? I'm missing lunch for this!"

"I'll explain once everyone is here, Sonic." Sally had shed her regal dress and tiara for a more practical set of blue boots, blue vest, and a gray backpack for the sake of their adventure. "I'm sorry to keep you from your lunch, but this is very important."

"Oui!" The piercing accent of Antoine D'Coolette preceded him as he descended the stairs, dressed in his finest blue jacket. Like most nobles, he wore a full set of clothes as a status symbol, though today he was noticeably missing his pants. "I would be liking to know, as well, why we are here. I will be in so much troo-ble when my father finds out I am missing my violin lesson, but there ees no troo-ble too great to keep me from aiding you, my highness!"

"Oh, brother..." Sonic rolled his eyes out of reflex. He'd barely understood a word, but that didn't stop his usual reaction to Antoine.

"Thank you, Antoine." Sally tried, as she often had to, to make up for Sonic's lack of manners but this time, she could not help but stifle a giggle. "But, um, where are your pants?"

"Ah!" The young coyote's eyes lit up in indignation as he pointed a finger at his blue-furred rival. "He should be the one you are to be asking! This, this, ah… _fuel _of a hedgehog, he drags me from my home before I am even dressing properly, weethout words one, and tells me I am to be meeting you here for some sort of… _adventois_."

"Ah know how ya feel, sugah." The equally thick accent of the other female member of their circle of friends announced the arrival of Bunnie Rabbot, clad in only a purple leotard. "Sugah-hog here grabbed me on mah way from ballet class, 'fore ah could even dress proper." She brushed the hair out of her eyes and shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. "Ah'm gonna miss mah etiquette lessons!"

"Wait for me!" Rotor Walrus half-ran, half-fell down the steps, arms full of gadgets, tools and papers. He strained to catch his breath as he presented the princess with everything he'd collected. "Ah, hah… I-I came as soon as I got your message! Haahhhh… am I too late?"

"Wait… Rotor?" Sonic raised an eyebrow. "Sally didn't send me after you…"

"I called him with Nicole, and told him everything while you were getting everyone else." Sally explained, motioning to her belt-holstered computer.

"Do you mind to be telling us?" Antoine complained. "The, how you say… wool on our eyes ees in the dark."

Sonic snickered in the back of the group. "That's NOT 'how you say'."

"Oh man…" Rotor continued to try to catch his breath as he explained, "Oh, man, its bad! Haaahh… Real bad! There's a… hah… oh, you do it!" He fell back and lay on the steps, panting.

Sally bowed her head slightly, the reality of what she was getting them into beginning to dawn on her. "I overheard my father in a meeting with General Katzenov. They were talking about one of the members of the council secretly working for the Overlanders. They don't know who, and it's ruining my father to worry about it so."

"But ah don' understand, Sally-girl," their yellow rabbit friend drawled, "The council's supposed to be on our side. Why would one of them be workin' for the bad guys?"

"I don't know, Bunnie." Sally shook her head slowly. But that's why I called you all here. I need your help to find this traitor so we can expose them. If they're not stopped, there's no telling what kind of damage will be done. We might lose the war because of them. I might be putting us all in danger…"

"Danjour? Ha!" Antoine dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand and a snort. "Nonsense! The D'Coolettes leeve for danjour! I am to be laughing upon the face of it!"

Sonic pinched his nose shut and repeated the coyotes' words in the same snooty manner. "Hah! You leave for danger all right!"

"Enough, Sonic! This is serious!" Sally stood up and paced back and forth in front of her friends. "If this person is working for the Overlanders, then there's no telling how far they'll go to keep that secret. They might try to kill us if they know we're on to them.

"Keel us? Ha!" Antoine dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand and a snort. The snort caught in his throat and he choked slightly when the reality hit him. "Eeeh… wait, as in… dead? Ahhhaah… I am just now remembering something I have to do! Oh! Is that my father calling for me? So sorry, must be going!" Sonic caught him by the back of his jacket as he rose and the coyote slumped back down, trembling slightly. "Ehehe… I mean, that ees to say, I will protect you, Your Majesty!"

"Ah'm not afraid of getting in to trouble if it's for you, Sally-girl, but wouldn't this be a matter for… say, the Royal Guard?"

"Normally it would be, Bunnie." Sally explained, "But my father doesn't want to use them because he can't afford to let the traitor know anyone is on to him. And besides, no one will suspect us. We're just kids. Please, guys." She held out her hand, palm down in the traditional togetherness gesture of her friends. "If not for my father, then for me?"

Sonic placed his hand on top of hers. "You know I will, Sal." Rotor and Bunnie quickly followed suit.

"You can count on me, Sally"

"Aw, think nothin' of it, sugah."

"Antoine?" A chorus of voices called for their less enthusiastic friend to join.

"Eeheh… erm… I am, how you say…"

"Antoine!"

The coyote timidly reached out and put his finger on top of the stack of hands. "I am een it, but my heart is to be having not."

"Thank you, Antoine." Sally paused, trying to parse his statement. "I… think. Thank you all. For better or worse, we'll get to the bottom of this. We're all in this together!"

----------

Far from the jubilant cheer of five children, on the outskirts of the city, another party was to begin the very same search. Inside a large, armored Overlander transport that had been converted to a home of sorts, Kurtis and Rebecca Prower tended to their equipment; and Kurtis' concussion.

"Enough! All right already." Kurtis pulled the ice pack off his head and discarded it on the floor. "Thing's just giving me a worse headache, give me some herbs to chew on and it'll be fine."

"I'll see what we have left, but you really should be using the ice on the back of your neck, not your forehead, Kurtis."

"My forehead is what hurts! The blast broke a plank of wood over it and I-" Kurtis was cut off by the sudden activation of a communications monitor on a nearby wall of the transport. A shadowy figure, features obscured by the darkness of the room he broadcast from, greeted them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Prower, I assume?"

Kurtis turned his chair to face the screen and eyed the figure with suspicion. "Who wants to know? How'd you get this frequency?"

The figure on the monitor struck a match, and lit a cigarette; the light of the flickering flame illuminated dark glasses and orange-and-black striped fur. "I am the reason you are in the comfort of your base of operations, and not a prison cell. I'm calling you on behalf of someone very important."

"You're the person who had us let off?" Rebecca looked up at the monitor, straining to make out features. "Who are you working on behalf of?"

"As I said, someone very important. He has tasked me with dealing with a problem that vexes him greatly. I want to hire the two of you to fix this problem." The dark figure spoke in an indeterminate accent, but his words were careful and slow.

"Tough luck, then. I'm on a job already, and it's personal." Kurtis reached for the controls. "Try someone else."

The shadowed figure took a puff of his cigarette. "I have an unlimited amount of financial resources to bring to bear. You may name your price upon completion."

Rebecca and Kurtis shared a glance at one another, deliberating without words. She was the first to speak. "Who's the target?"

"That is up to you to find out." Another long, thoughtful exhalation of smoke obscured the figure. "A member of the Mobian Scientific Council is guilty of selling military secrets to our enemies. I want you to find out who it is. Due to my own position, I cannot be involved. I have never spoken to you, and will disavow any knowledge of this conversation. You'll not be bailed out again should you make a mistake."

Kurtis nodded slowly. "Okay, pal you've got me. You want this person dead, or alive?"

"Dead. No witnesses. This is a highly sensitive matter, Mr. Prower. You get your money when I read the headline." He exhaled a large puff of smoke that obscured the camera with inky haze before the transmission ended.

"Do you think he's legit, Kurtis?"

The fox chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, he's a big-time government guy for sure. There's no reason someone would want a random council member assassinated, especially if we're supposed to find evidence of wrongdoing. If he was using us, he'd have named a name instead."

"That's not what worries me." Rebecca shook her head and sat down to clean her sidearm. "When we're done, will he pay us, or kill us?"

"I get the feeling he's not someone we get to say 'no' to. I think we just basically got drafted to do this, like it or not." Kurtis rubbed the bridge of his muzzle and stretched. "We know Vince is in the city too. If we're lucky, we'll take him down on the way. We're just gonna have to play this one by ear."


	8. Chapter 6

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter VI: **__'Clues and Conspiracies'_

"We've been looking for an hour!" Sonic tapped his foot on the polished floor of the Forum Gardens impatiently. "Are you sure there's anything here, Sally?"

"There must be!" The princess opened another podium and began searching it. "This is the last place where all the councilors were together. If they left any kind of clue behind, it should be somewhere around here."

"She's right, Sonic." Rotor paced circles around the area, trying to come up with other places to search as he talked. "If we're trying to single out one person, then we have to at least find something to start with. You know; something to bring them into suspect. Otherwise we'll never narrow it down."

"Okay, fine, like what?" The blue hedgehog kicked a rock that had found its way into the forum, sending it skidding away. "What's a clue supposed to look like, anyway?" A slip of paper that had been lying beside a potted plant was suddenly disturbed by the rock, sending it rustling and floating through the air as it caught a gust of summer breeze.

"Like that!" Sally, farthest from the paper pointed to it urgently. "Get that paper, quick, before it blows away!"

"_Oui_, my princess!" Antoine chased after the blowing paper, making futile grabs and lunges as it darted ahead of him. Finally, he caught it in one hand, holding it up in triumph. "Ha!"

"Ha!" Sonic rushed past him in a flash, snatching the paper from his hand and delivering it to Sally before the coyote could protest. "Here ya go, Sal! What's it say?"

"Hmmm." Her expression became puzzled as she looked at the paper. "I… don't understand. What is this?"

"Here, lemme see!" Sonic took the paper from her and puzzled over it, turning it this way and that as he only became more confused. "These are just a bunch of letters and stuff, but they're put together all weird."

"Those would be called words, you _fuel _hedgehog." Antoine snatched the paper from his rival's hands, looking over it himself. "Ah yes, _theese ees_… uhhh... ummm..." He passed the paper on to Rotor. "What _ees theese_?"

"It's a code!" The walrus boy tried to make more sense of it, but ultimately, he too was left scratching his head. "I wish I could tell what it said, though, it might be a clue."

"This is interestin' and all," Bunnie Rabbot, silent for the duration of the search up until then, pointed out the dark brown stain on the edge of the code sheet. "But ah do believe that's a blood stain, there."

This revelation came as a great shock to all of the children, most noticeably Antoine, who turned pale and flattened his ears at the prospect of blood, implied danger, and all things related.

"Nicole." Sally was struck with an idea, unfolding her computer and pointing it at the document. It stood to reason that the computers small camera let it 'see' whatever it was pointing at. "Can you understand what this says?"

"Analyzing…" The small computer's soft, emotionless voice rose up from the singular speaker. "Professor Calus programmed me with knowledge of most standard encryption techniques, but this one is not in my records. I am unable to decipher any information of relevance."

"Well… there goes my idea." The princess slipped the computer back into her vest pocket. "If someone dropped this by mistake, then it's suspicious. If someone left it here for someone else, then it's even _more_ suspicious. I'm almost sure this will put us in the right direction if we figure it out." She took the paper and wandered to the steps of the forum, sitting down and folding it up to put in her pocket. Finally, she accepted the exasperating truth of their problem. "We're going to have to get an adult's help if we're going to get any further, but we can't just show this to anybody. I say we put it up to vote. Who can we trust to help us?"

"I say my Uncle Chuck!" Sonic was quickest to submit an idea. "He's smart, and if he can't figure it out, then he'll give it to the king, and he… oh…"

"Yeah." Sally nodded as her friend realized the problem of secrecy. "We can't let daddy find out about this. He'd be furious. I am _not _about to get grounded again, like last time. That means no Sir Charles, and no General Katzenov or daddy." She paused, in thought. "Come to think of it, no Professor Calus either."

"But Sally-girl," Bunnie interjected, "he's the big mathemawhoosit, why not him? He must do this stuff all the time."

"Because, Bunnie, If he made Nicole, and she can't figure it out, why would he? There's that, and the professor is… well, he's a nice man, and I'm sure he's not the bad guy, but he's just not the most reliable…"

"Well he was gonna be mah vote, so ah give up." Bunnie passed the proverbial torch to the next member of the group with a shrug. "How 'bout you, Rote?"

"I say we take it to Dr. Faustian!" Rotor enthusiastically explained his unexpected choice. "He lets me watch him build things sometimes, and he says I have a good mechanical mind. He's really smart, and I just know he wouldn't tell on us if we asked him not to. I know he'd be able to figure the code out in no time. Let's see if he'll help us!"

There was a general consensus among sonic and the others after Rotor's glowing review of the Minister of Engineering, but one member had yet to submit any offering.

"What do you think we should do, Antoine?"

"Ehhh…" The coyote took the front of his shirt and wrung it in his hands. "I am thinking that maybe we should be putting this paper back where we found it and go home! It's after time for lunch, and I am hungry… We could all go home and my mother will make us the nicest tea and cakes, so this is a good idea, yes?" He laughed nervously, making a slight pleading gesture with his hands.

"This is a good idea, _no_." Sonic shook his head at the cowering coyote. "I'm starting to think Sal's right, Antoine. That paper may really be important, so let's go talk to the Doc and find out what it says. I'm votin' yes for Faustian."

"I agree." Sally stood up, nodding.

"He gets mah vote too."

Antoine sighed heavily, defeated again. "_Oui_... I am voting to go see _heem_, then."

Rotor beamed at being the most important member of the group for once. "All right! Just… let me do the talking when we get there, okay?

The workshop of Dr. Reinhardt Faustian was a place of order and meticulous cleanliness. The young engineer had skipped lunch, as he always did, to continue to work on his metal soldiers; a project that he felt certain would help to cement his future. He sat quietly at his workbench, turning a stripped-down shoulder joint every which way in his hands as he studied it through an array of special goggle lenses. "Why…?" He whispered to himself, lost in the puzzle of his latest setback. "Why is it zat you failed again…?"

"Still working on the buckling issue, huh doc?" Dylan Donovan Drake, Faustian's assistant was a teenager to his Draconian race; meaning he towered twice the size of other Mobians. The Draconians were a strong, winged race of reptiles that had been pressed into service as soldiers. Dylan, like many young people of the day, had come to the city for the education that could not be found anywhere else; that, and to escape from the war. "You want me to go get you some lunch? You need to eat."

"Nein," Faustian pressed a button on his goggles, paying no mind to the boy that stood twice his height. The color of his lenses changed and he studied the bent shoulder joint in a new spectrum. "Not hungry, too busy. Ugh, what is _wrong_ with ze joints? Ze shoulder pins simply dislocate as soon as zey bear any real weight. Are we using standard industrial screws?"

"Should be."

"Problem solved." Faustian snorted derisively, tossing the defective part into a bin at his side for recycling. "It's not ze pins falling out, it's ze screws failing to hold on! One arm assembly weighs twenty-five pounds, when it goes to lift a hundred pounds of gear, industrial screws will naturally fail. Put more alloy screws on order, boy."

Dylan had become used to one-sided conversation with his mentor. He'd thought about asking after the slightly bloodied bandage on the fox's hand, but didn't want to endure another earful of common sense and meaninglessness. "Sure thing, boss. Is that all you need me for? I was kind of hoping you might let me take off early today…"

"Hm." Dr. Faustian smiled to himself. "Got a date with some know-nothing girl you've managed to dupe, eh?"

"Uhhh, Something… kind of like that." Dylan blushed and scratched the back of his crested head embarrassedly.

"Ja." Faustian dismissed him with a wave of his hand, never looking away from his work. "Ja, Dylan. Zat's fine, go on."

"Thanks Doc. I'll see you tomorrow morning then." Dylan had barely made it out the door before he'd run into the children, just arrived to see Faustian. "Oh, hey Rotor! Haven't seen you here lately."

The purple walrus was a regular in and around the workshop, going so far as to sneak in sometimes when he wasn't always welcome, always to see the latest mechanical wonders being made. To him, Dylan was one of the perpetually cool 'older kids' to be looked up to and envied. "Hi Dylan! You're leaving the shop kinda early, huh?"

The bright red Draconian boy laughed, stretching his wings. A faint wisp of black smoke escaped his round nostrils. "Oh yeah, I got a date I have to get ready for!"

A faint chorus of 'eews' came from the children, until Rotor spoke up. "Well, do you mind if we went inside and talked to Mr. Faustian for a minute? It's important!"

This thought forced Dylan to hesitate. He knew better than to pester his eccentric boss, but he did like to humor Rotor and his friends. He liked the kid; it was refreshing to know another mechanical mind. "Well… the doc's in one of his moods; I don't think he wants visitors, but if it's really important, I guess you can go on in." He reached back and swiped his card key through the front door's reader, which opened for them with a soft creak. "Good luck getting whatever it is you need out of him when he's like this though."

Inside, Faustian continued to work on his mechanical shoulder prototype, testing a hastily-improved model with stronger screws. There was a loud clatter from his workbench as the newest attempt broke as well. "Agh! Now ze pin can't pop out so it simply grinds down until it breaks!" He peeled the goggles of his head and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle tiredly. "Zere must be a way to increase ze lifespan of my support pin without making it any larger…"

"You could spray the pin with something to make it tougher!" Rotor interjected from behind him, enthusiastically.

"Ah!" Faustian's massaging hand fell to the table quietly as a smile grew on his usually dour face. "Ze minds of children… such amazing capabilities." He spun around on his stool to face the little walrus and his friends, face aglow with uncommon exuberance. "We adults over complicate ze world so, but children can find ze simplest, easiest of solutions. An ablative spray could coat all ze parts and make it so much more cost-effective! Ah, and ze princess too, I see! What brings you to my workshop again, little engineer? I assume Dylan let you in?"

"We need your help with something, if you have time, sir." Rotor began, "I guess we better start from the beginning. We're looking for clues to help Sally's father, the king, on an investigation… we found this coded note," He unrolled the paper and handed it to the fox, continuing. "We were hoping you could tell us what it said."

As Faustian took the note with his bandaged hand, Princess Sally felt a sudden twinge, as if something just wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on just what it was though, so she dismissed it.

Faustian laughed a little at the thought, glancing down at the note. "A puzzle, eh? Well, let's see if I-" his countenance instantly fell and he looked back up at the children. "Yes, very interesting. I'll take a close look just as soon as I get back from lunch!" He sat the paper on his workbench, obviously a bit agitated. "In ze meantime, why don't you children look for clues in, oh… Undercity?"

"Undercity!?" Princess Sally stepped to the front of the group, shaking her head. "We aren't allowed to go there, it's too dangerous!"

"Nonsense!" Faustian smiled at her. "Dangerous, for clever children like you? Bah! In fact, I heard zere is a… uhh…" He thought for a moment, tapping the underside of his muzzle. "A, uh, a sage! Zat supposedly knows all and sees all! I am sure if you found him, your investigation would be over in no time."

The little princess' eyes went wide with misplaced trust. "Wow… really?"

"Of course!" Faustian nodded eagerly. "Ah, but it's a secret, so you mustn't tell anyone at all where you are going, or zat I sent you!"

"All right!" Sonic spoke up excitedly, happy for any excuse to explore somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. "Let's do it, guys!"

When Bunnie and Rotor got on board the idea as well, Sally conceded, heading with them for the door. "Okay, I suppose it can't hurt to try and find this sage."

Sonic gave an exuberant thumbs-up. "Don't worry, doc! Your secret's safe with us!"

Faustian smiled to himself in private as the door closed, looking back to the table and the note. "Ja… of zat I am very sure, mein little 'friends'." He struck a match, tossed the bloodstained code sheet in a wastebasket and lit it aflame.


	9. Chapter 6 Sidestory

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I **_

_**Chapter VI Sidestory**___

"_Like No Other Girl You Know"_

"Nothing for me, thank you." Professor Cassiopeia Notwen gently pushed away the menu with her soft-feathered hand. The events of the morning's meeting had soured her appetite, but she had come to the high-class restaurant with her colleague, Dr. Renard, anyway.

"Aw." René curled a finger and rested her chin on it daintily, regarding her friend of several years. "Still upset about this morning? I think it was terrible, the way his Majesty and Dr. Faustian talked to you." Her accent was a thing of convenience for the vixen; it came and went whenever she pleased.

"No, no, I'm over that." The cardinal shook her plumed head, the long feathers in the back swaying slowly. "There's been something… else. I don't know how to talk about it though… It's a sort of… girl problem."

"Ooh!" René grinned at the thought that she was about to be in on a deep secret. "It is so much a girl problem, or a _boy_ problem, hmm?" She stifled a giggle. It was hard to imagine her quiet, introverted colleague taking a liking to a man, but it had to happen sooner or later.

The feathers on the avian professor's cheeks ruffled; it was her species' equivalent of a blush. "Eh, well, that might be a better way to put it, yes. I tried talking to Ren about it all the other day, but he just gave me some strange metaphor about… tree roots I think it was… and walked off."

"I think, perhaps he is not quite an authority on this kind of thing… but I will try to help you. Who is this _tr__é mystérieuse _man in your life, hmm?"

"Oh, no, no!" Cassiopeia chirped in surprise at the notion of telling anyone the identity of her love interest. "I-I don't want to say…"

"Ah-ha!" René beamed at an opportunity to pry any piece of interesting secrecy from anyone, especially her friends. "So I will be guessing him, hmm? Well, if he's one of our colleagues, then we can rule out most of them on the spot; Lorne s a married man, most of the others are too old…"

Not wanting her to go on, especially in public, Cassiopeia lowered her head a little and whispered it to her in surrender. "Arthur."

There was a sharp intake of breath as the vixen went wide eyed. When she spoke suddenly, it was more a squeak than a whisper. "You have a crush on the Profess-" She covered her mouth suddenly to stop herself from accidentally saying it too loud in public. Her muffled words turned into soft giggles as she pictured it in her head. "I-I am so sorry, Cassi, I do not mean to laugh, but the Professor… he is so… oh, you poor thing. I'm sorry." She regained her composure slowly. "He… must have absolutely no clue you like him, right?"

"I just don't know how to approach him. You've had boyfriends before and all, you must know how to… well, approach him, right?" Cassi looked to her friend with her glassy eyes full of hope.

"Ah… you could… call them that, I suppose." The vixen flattened her ears and sunk into the plush booth with a troubled expression. "I… suppose you don't quite understand this, Cassi, but I can't help you with this."

"Wha- but why??"

"It is… hard for me to explain." René sighed a little. "I suppose you have to see for yourself. You should, uh… meet me at the _Petit Fleur _tonight, about midnight. It's a nightclub on the east side, it's not hard to find. If you come, then I think you'll understand why I'm no good for this kind of advice."

"I've never heard of such a place, but… all right." Cassiopeia excused herself from the booth and smoothed out her plumage, the bright red feathers fanning out around her in their usual pattern. "I should go, I've got a lot of work to get done this week and I'm not feeling up to lunch. You enjoy yours, though. I'll track down this night club and come see it tonight."

… … …

The 'east side', as a particular segment of the eastern half of Mobotropolis was known, was widely considered one of the seedier parts of town. Cassiopeia Notwen walked through the dark night of the city, lit by the neon signs of gambling houses and gaudy advertisements, all casting reflections in the sunken puddles that lined the street from that afternoon's storm. She'd already found directions to the _Petit Fleur, _but the building itself was quite hard to miss. A large, somewhat soaked banner with the name hung over the tinted glass doors and the distinct neon sign of an orange vixen suggestively hanging from a vertical pole suggested this was not the kind of nightclub she'd pictured in her mind. Summoning her courage, the cardinal opened the doors and stepped into the waiting maw of social awkwardness. It was not at all what she'd re-imagined after seeing the sign.

The inside was bright, and much higher-class than she'd guessed. The floor was richly carpeted in red, and the area around the well-maintained looking bar was done in an expensive looking dark wood with a highly polished finish. The music was unusual to her, but the well-dressed pianist and the small orchestra on the dark wooden stage exuded a sense of class. A suited attendant greeted her and took her to a seat that was reserved especially for her. René evidently had a great deal of pull with the establishment, but she was nowhere to be found among the patrons of the nightclub. There weren't many women in the club at all, in fact; the clientele seemed to be almost exclusively men.

However, the music was nice, and so the professor sat in her private booth, enjoying it and drinking her glass of water, until the pianist, a black cat with strong features, glanced off-stage, nodded, and brought the song to a close. He turned around on his stool and smiled to the audience, addressing the club-goers in a deep, smooth voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome as always to the _Petit Fleur, _the classiest dive on the east side! It is now my deepest pleasure to present for her nightly song and dance number, our owner and proprietor, the mysterious Madam Rose Scarlet!"

There was a loud round of applause and the lights dimmed, a single spotlight following the vixen that sashayed out onto the stage. She was wearing a fake beauty mark on her white muzzle, and garishly red eyeliner accented her facial features, but Cassi instantly recognized the woman as her colleague, Dr. René Renard. She owned the establishment under an assumed name, but why? And why was she dressed so strangely? She had on a large, feathered hat, a flowing silk robe that hung around her bare shoulders, and a scarf, all equally bright red.

Rene sung along with the band as they began to play a slow but upbeat melody. Her voice, was missing its common accent, and she sounded much more soft than usual; a trained singer.

"_Da dum dum da,_

_Da da dumda da dumda…_

_Da dum dum da,_

_Da da dumda da dumda…"_

The music quieted down so as not to drown out her singing, though it would have been hard to do; Dr. Renard was more confident and strong-voiced than her perplexed colleague had ever seen her before.

"_While I'm not your next door neighbor,_

_And you don't see me on the street._

_If you'd just get to know me then I'm sure_

_You'd find I'm very sweet..."_

The doctor discarded her hat with a practiced toss; it spun through the air and landed perfectly atop the head of one of the male patrons, who blushingly tipped it to her and nervously smiled as the spotlight briefly fixated on him.

"_Of course I never mind it when the boys look at me._

_I might even forgive them for just trusting what they see..."_

René shrugged her shoulders and her robe slid cleanly off her, landing with a soft rustle on the neatly lacquered wood floor. She didn't have anything else on beneath it, and this elicited a quiet cheer from the audience while Cassiopeia shockingly realized the nature of her friend's performance.

"_A pair of legs…_

_A pretty face…"_

René admired herself with the casual indifference of someone making sure everything was still there as she strutted off the stage and to the nearest patron, lifting a leg and putting a foot to his chest as she leaned in against him, smiling.

"_Another... thing or two._

_But if that's all you're after, then those things..."_

The vixen suddenly kicked both the club patron and his chair over with a loud crash, much to the laughter of the rest of the audience. She deadpanned down at the dazed admirer, hands on her hips.

"Are NOT for you."

Cassiopeia was seeing a part of her dear friend that she'd never seen before; both literally and metaphorically. Technically, nudity wasn't considered sexual in Mobian society, in fact, it wasn't terribly uncommon, after all, fur, scales, or plumage covered up their private parts as completely as they could want. It was the context and intent that counted, and in this case, her friend wasn't taking them off because the room was uncomfortably warm. What was she thinking? This was the career equivalent of suicide if anyone in her circle of colleagues found out about what the genius geneticist was doing in her night life. It was no wonder she performed under a stage name.

The musical solo ended and René's singing snapped the cardinal back to attention. No longer menacing audience members for the time being, she'd returned to the stage and continued her dance number.

"_Well you really aren't ready_

_If you just want a pretty show._

_Clearly you don't understand me, _

_I'm like no other girl you know."_

Using her long scarf as a makeshift lasso, the vixen snared the waist of one of the front row patrons, and playfully reeled him up onto stage as his slightly inebriated friends cheered for him. Once he was within her reach, she traced a hand along his collar and turned her singing towards him more directly.

"_Independent, smart, and pretty,_

_From my head down to my toes._

_And if you should disrespect me..."_

René suddenly turned from caressing her unwitting prop's collar to grabbing him by it, as she menaced him with clenched fist just centimeters from his face.

"_I'll have to break your nose!"_

As he went cross-eyed staring at the neatly manicured fist that threatened him, the vixen shoved him off the stage, scarf and all. He landed back in his padded seat with a thud and she blew a kiss after him.

"_I refuse to be a trophy and refuse to be your mother,_

_There's a million girls just for that but I'm not like any other._

_If you expect me to,_

_I'll laugh at you..._

_Don't you tell me what to do,"_

She stomped a bare foot on the stage in time with a loud orchestral hit.

"_I do what I want to!"_

The dance and musical number started up again, and Cassi was again wracked with questions. 'Why?' being among the top in her mind. All this because she asked for advice on dating. She carefully removed her tiny spectacles and cleaned them with a feathered finger, replacing them and blinking. But it was no trick; her friend was still up there, still doing a striptease for a crowd of cheering men, and apparently all the happier for it.

The band stopped and the spotlight shone down on Dr. Renard again, the song almost at a conclusion as she sang the final verses in as heartfelt a way as she knew.

"_Why not get to know me?_

_At least past just' hello'._

_Then you'd get the chance to see…"_

There was silence in the audience as their nightly star began her slow sashay behind the curtains, blowing kisses and waving to various patrons as she made her way off-stage, stopping to finish the last line before she vanished behind the curtains.

"…_I'm like no other girl you know."_

The audience erupted in cheer, many of the patrons standing to applaud as the band picked up the melody again and slowly brought the music to a cheery close. The main curtain fell and the lights came back on in the nightclub, leaving Cassi to shake her head in disbelief at the spectacle she'd seen.

The same attendant who had seated her now approached her again, motioning to a stage door. "Madame Scarlet wishes to speak to you backstage. She is in her dressing room. Please, this way."

… … …

René sat the plush comfort of her favorite chair in her dressing room, clad in another red robe as she gently brushed away the makeup in her fur. "_Da dum dum da, da da dumda da dumda_…" She hummed her song quietly, a smile locked on her face. "Oh, do come in, Cassi, there's no need to wait at the door there." From the reflection in her large mirror on her dresser, she could see the timid cardinal waiting in the doorway. "Did you like my song? It's my favorite, I wrote it myself."

"It was… very…" Cassiopeia struggled to find the words. "Revealing, yes err, but what is this all about? Why are you doing this, René?"

"Because I want to, of course!" The vixen stifled a giggle and stretched, pushing her chair back to stand up and deliver a hug to her friend as she entered the room. "Didn't you listen to that part of the song?"

"But René…" Cassi returned her friend's embrace and took the other seat in the room. "I don't mean to judge or anything, but you were up there… and all those men, and the dance was… Y-you're a geneticist, not… not an exotic dancer."

"Oh!" René sat back down and tied her robe closed, a smirk upon her face. "And why can't I be both, hm? Just because I'm an expert in some stuffy scientific field, does that mean I have to cloister myself away in some lab, and shun contact with everyone?"

"No, but, being a geneticist helps people, and…"

"And so does this!" Dr. Renard threw her arms open in gesture at the entire place. "Those men, my customers, do you think my next genetic breakthrough will bring any joy to their lives? They have no idea what I am outside of this club, and that's how it should be. All that matters here is happiness. They may live dreadful and dreary lives outside, but each night, they can come and taste a sample of the life they really want; entertainment, pleasure, fantasy, fun! This place lets me enrich the lives of those people that never see a fraction of the luxury I enjoy in high society." She folded her hands in her lap, leaning back relaxed. "And in return, they give me what I can't find in a stuffy dinner party or a test tube rack; applause, adoration, attention." Her hand reached out and took a rose, her adopted namesake, from her dresser. She took a sniff of the flower as she read the name on the card to herself with a soft and happy sigh. "And when the mood strikes me some of them give me a bit more… if they play their cards right."

"That's… well enough I suppose. "Cassi cocked her head, still not sure what to make of her friend, but accepting nonetheless. "It's… your body afterall. But… what about your life on the council? Someone could use something like this to completely ruin you…"

"No." The vixen's face became serious. "They could only destroy René Renard, not Rose Scarlet. I could live my days without the money, the prestige, the high-class life as a scientist, but no one can ever take this place from me. It may happen someday, or it may not, but I don't fear it." Her expression slowly softened again. "Ah, but that wasn't the point of all this was it? You wanted me to help you with matters of love, and this was all to show you why I can never really do that for you."

The cardinal shook her head in response. "No, you know all about men, that's obvious, you can tell-"

"You don't want advice on men, though. You want advice on just one man, and on love, and I can't give you that. I don't have any interest in love, myself, not the kind in your heart, at least. Love is…" René stopped, stumbling over words in search of the best way to explain her point of view as her tone and expression became more somber. "Love is not for… people like me, Cassi. Too much commitment, too much finality, and too many chances for loss, or for jealousy, or to let my nature get the better of me. No, I don't want those strings to hold me down, and that's why I honestly have no idea how it works. It would be good for you, I'm sure the two of you would be a wonderful couple, but I could never imagine that kind of life, any more than you can imagine living mine."

Now it made sense, Cassi realized. René had brought her here and shown her all this to come clean to someone; to confess and share her secret world as much as to show her why she couldn't help her win her crush's heart. "I understand, and that's… all right, actually. But, as a friend, is there no advice you could give me?" She pleaded with her eyes.

René looked at the floor quietly, in thought. When she looked up again, it was with a small smile on her face. "Follow your heart, Cassi. As long as you intend to hurt no one, including yourself, there's nothing to fear in that. If you truly want to see him, go to him, and then just do whatever your heart tells you is right. It may not work out, or it may be a fairytale romance. But you'll never know if you don't try, and that's worse than rejection, that much I know."

It would take a lot of courage, but the logic-minded physicist in Professor Cassiopeia couldn't deny that the wondering and the what-ifs were the worst part of it all. "Yes." She nodded softly, her plumage bobbing slowly as she steeled herself to face her feelings. "Yes, I'll do it, René. Thank you." She stood to hug her friend and mutual confidante again. "Do you ever wish for a different life, René? Do you ever have regrets about the way you live?"

"A little, from time to time." The vixen hugged her friend tightly and saw her to the door. "But not tonight. Good luck, Cassi, and remember. Just follow your heart, and no guilt, no matter what happens."

… … …

"_No matter what happens_…"

It was raining again, when Cassiopeia left the night club. There was nothing open anymore, and no one but the street lights to keep her company in the cool night, but she knew the way to where she wanted to go. Her own home wasn't far, but she passed it by and nodded to herself, certain that she would face her feelings, no matter what. The two moons in the black, cloudy sky of the early morning vanished into the stormy skies as she arrived at the street she sought, and the doorstep of the red-bricked flat that Professor Arthur Calus called home.

There was a light on inside, and that wasn't a surprise to her; Calus was a night person, and was probably tinkering away with some computer inside, heedless of the hour. She stopped at the door, a feathered fingertip at the doorbell as she struggled internally, whispering confidence to herself. "No turning back now. Just follow your heart, Cassi."

The doorbell rang, and as she'd imagined, the squirrel came to the door, still clad in his work clothes, a circuit board in one hand and a full coffee mug with 'I / 0' printed on it in the other. "P… Professor Notwen?" He tilted his head at her, a concerned look on his innocent face. "What are you doing out in the rain at this hour? Are you all right?"

Cassi smiled to herself, her thoughts deeply internalized. She remembered all the things she loved about him in his kind, concerned face then and there. All the times she'd fixed that hideous tie for him, all the time's they'd helped one another find their glasses…

"_Is this what you really want, Cassi?" _She asked herself. The answer came back with resounding certainty as she looked into his bespectacled eyes.

"_Yes."_

"Professor Notwen?" Arthur stood in the doorway, still confused at her silence.

Without a word, the soaking and cold cardinal reached out and took off his glasses, pressing her body to his and kissing him as deeply as her beaked species could manage.

"_Always and forever."_

"Mrrph?" Arthur tried to speak, but his tongue was drawn out of his mouth before he had the chance. There was a crash as his circuit board and coffee mug left his hands and shattered on the rain-soaked steps. "Mm…" His eyes widened and his hands trembled as social ineptitude gave way to instinct and he put his warm, dry arms around her. He stayed that way with her, both of them oblivious to the rain for some time, until at last she let him have his tongue back. "P-p-p-professor?"

"You know you can call me Cassi."

"O-of course, prof… er, Cassi." He blushed brightly, and one of his hands found one of hers of their own volition. "You're going to catch cold out here, Cassi. …w-would you like to come inside?"

"Arthur…" She smiled at him, the rainwater running down the faint curve of her yellow beak as her cheeks ruffled and a wave of warmth and happiness came over her. "Yes Arthur. I would like that, very, very much." She gently placed his glasses back on his face.

"All right." The squirrel nodded timidly, a smile starting to form on his face. "I-I'll just get you a towel, and some hot coffee." He backed away a little, regarding her with a curious feeling he'd never had before. Slowly he turned away and disappeared into his kitchen.

Cassi stood in the doorway, and cast her gaze back to the sky one more time. The two moons of Mobius had found their way through the dark clouds somehow, and they sparkled in the night sky as she smiled up at them. A comment from her conversation with René- no, with Rose, sprang back into her mind as she rested a long-feathered hand on her chest; _"Do you ever wish for a different life, René?" _she'd asked the vixen.

"_Do you ever have regrets about the way you live?"_

Her answer made sense now. _"A little, from time to time."_

Cassiopeia closed the door quietly and leaned against it, sighing with content in the warmth of the house as she listened to Arthur fumble nervously in the kitchen. A smile crossed her face once more.

"…_But not tonight."_


	10. Chapter 7

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter VII: **__'Clash of Tides'_

As the five children marched off to Undercity, the tides of war in the tumultuous world outside marched on as well. Mid-day saw another fateful battle of the Great War unfold, one that would set in motion events that would change the very course of the war itself. Far to the north, in the snowy shadows of the Galewind Mountains, another group of Mobians met in the name of equally covert endeavors. Halloway's Hellcats, an all-feline group of special operatives named after a terrible beast in Overlander mythology, went over the plans for their mission in a makeshift bunker amidst the roar of battle outside.

Royal Knight Corps, Special Operative Colonel Nathan Halloway, codenamed 'Frost'; the veteran leader of his special unit was an aging white cat with a dusty black uniform and a cigar permanently joined with his mouth. "Here's the plan." He unraveled a map of the surrounding area and the nearby Overlander base, explaining the detailed operation in his grizzled voice. "Right now, we're at this point on the map. Captain St. John's troops are over here, attempting to break through the Overlander line. When the Captain gives the all clear, we're breaching the facility wall and entering at this point." He put a pin on the wall of the base's storage area. "Blowout, can you rig something to punch a hole in the wall?" He looked up at the group's demolitions expert, who was mimicking his cigar-chewing actions with a lit stick of dynamite in her mouth. "Put it out."

"Aw." Rikta 'Blowout' Din was the Hellcats' expert on explosives; a certifiably insane pyromaniac with more subspecies of cat in her heritage than anyone cared to guess. Why the mottled, spotted, and striped cat of many colors wasn't in an institution was a mystery to anyone but Halloway, who kept her in the group for her encyclopedic knowledge of all things explosive. "You're no fun, Frosty." Rikta pulled the fuse out of her dynamite-cigar and sighed. "Let me check inventory with Mr. Splodey."

'Mr. Splodey' was Blowout's pet hand grenade. She painted a yellow happy face on it and kept it close to her at all times. Mr. Splodey often relayed crucial advice and tactical information to her; information that, of course, only Rikta could hear. The rest of her team kept well clear of Mr. Splodey, for fear of whatever improvements the brilliant but deranged demolitionist might have made to his destructive payload. "Mr. Splodey says we have enough stuff to make a pretty good hole, no problem!"

"All right then," Halloway continued, undaunted neither by his subordinate's madness, nor by the artillery strike that shook the roof of the bunker moments later. "There's a hallway here, right outside the room we're breaching into, it runs a large length of the base. Broadside, you're setting up in the doorway and covering that hall. Are you okay with being alone on this one?"

Broadside, real name Aleshan Tygris was a hulking orange tiger; the heavy weapons and support specialist for the group. He'd removed an old Overlander heavy repeating cannon from one of their large powered-armor soldiers during a battle years ago and serviced it into a weapon he could carry and use. His gun, which he named 'Kisha', was as large as most of his teammates, and could fire a continuous spray of bullets in a wide angle for long periods. He adjusted his numerous straps of ammunition and gave a bellowing laugh in his thick accent. "They will not dare attack me, they will be high-tailing it for cover once Kisha and I are set up."

"As soon as we have our cover, the rest of us are going to move down the hall to the main computer room. Jack, you're neutralizing guards ahead of us." Halloway paused for his comrade, a fair-furred Siamese clothed in the trappings of a martial artist. "You with us, Jack?"

Jack 'Bounder' Acres, the teams close combat expert was a master of the martial art of Kalu-Fela-Fen, 'Claw, Feather, and Fin' in modern Mobian. A hard-hitting martial art that was designed to be usable no matter the body type of the user, it took years of practice and learning to master. Jack nodded slightly, never opening his eyes as he sat, mentally preparing for the battle. "Mhm."

"Once we're through the last of the security measures, I want you to make the data grab, Johnny. I'll cover you myself. When you have the Overlanders' new ciphers secured, we'll pull out and exit through the hangar."

Jonathan 'Shadow' Harrison, a black cat in an equally black bodysuit served as Halloway's second-in-command and stealth operative. Young, talented, and extremely beloved of the general public, he was, in fact, the military officer who had saved Dr. Kintobor's life and brought him to Mobotropolis. "Sounds good enough to me. Cocoa's on support, I'm guessing?"

"That's right, Johnny." A soft voice came in through all the team members' headsets. Cocoa Reece, codenamed 'Nightshade' was the team's coordinator, driver, and, unbeknownst to the others, Harrison's lover. "I'm outside in the transport, getting things prepped. Looks like St. John's troops are getting ready to make a move."

An icy rain had started up outside, making the ground cold and muddy as the remnants of the Royal Knight Corps fell in to formation. Dirt and blood was caked on their swords and spears, and on the damaged, incomplete suits of once shining and ornate plate armor they wore. At the head of the group, walking its length and delivering a speech to the battle-hardened troops was a tall, commanding skunk in his mid-thirties. Captain Geoffrey St. John had lost everything in the war, family and friend alike; but he held on to the one thing that no Overlander could take; vengeance. He'd earned the nickname 'Suicide St. John' for leading a number of impossible charges through Overlander weapon fire, and soldiers had gravitated to two camps of opinion about him; one would not fight under him for any reason, and the other would charge right behind him into certain death. The Mobian men and women with him today fell in to the latter camp, and his feelings and words resonated with their own war histories.

"Overlanders are all lying murderers! They butcher our families, they burn our houses and steal our lands, yet they have the gall to call us the savages, the animals!? They started this war with unprovoked aggression, borne of jealousy and xenophobia; they are the animals!" He readied a bolt in his wrist-mounted crossbow, and tucked his massive spear under his arm, pointing it out to the fortification that loomed ahead in the misty cold rain. "They hide behind walls and guns and machines because they are cowards! They fear tooth and claw and what we will do to them if we reach them, because we will not forget or forgive them for our cities, our families, and our lives! If the Overlanders think we are animals, then show them what animals will do when cornered, give the monsters no mercy, because you will receive none!" St. John spat and hissed his speech with the fury of one who had nothing left in life but his hatred; he brandished his spear, took a step forward and shouted the fateful charge. "For Mobotropolis!!! LONG LIVE THE KING!!!"

The thunder of a hundred metal-clad feet shook the soft ground as the searchlight atop the Overlanders' concrete and metal fortification lit up in alarm. "It's a chaaaaaarge!!" The lone, frightened cry of an Overlander sentry rang out above the din of rushing feet and the whistle of sharp, hungry metal swinging through the air in warning of what was to come. The large, multi-barreled machinegun turret atop the fortification opened fire with a roar, sweeping through the charging Mobian ranks, the sharp slivers of metal it fired streaking through the foggy air like beams of light.

Overlander soldiers filed out to the field in front of their base, clad in their dark brown plastic body armor and faceless, black visored helmets. They raised their battle rifles in unison as they fell in to the firing line, hoping to cut down the entire charge before they were forced into melee. The average Overlander soldier was issued no melee weapon and had no close-combat training; the brandished swords of the incoming mob would cut them apart ten-to-one if the Mobians reached the front line. "Steady!" Hold your ground! Seeing his words have little effect on the morale of the line of soldiers, the most ornately armored member of the group removed his helmet and looked over the battlefield with his own eyes, running an armored hand over his short red hair. He barked his demands at the soldiers under his command. "I said hold your ground you maggots! Any man who runs gets it in the back! Take aim and open fire!"

Geoffrey St. John saw the knight beside him take a spray of shots and roll forward in a lifeless crumpled heap, he felt a lucky hit catch him in the shoulder, another struck him in the chest; but Mobian armor was not a thing of decoration, even in this age. The aging plate mail absorbed the brunt of the force and the bullets sank lightly into his flesh, deadened instead of deadly. Ahead, the first of the Overlanders began to see the face of doom; the greenest recruits, St. John guessed. One lowered his rifle and stared from behind his reflective faceplate. Another began to shake, lowering his gun and standing up. Those that stood began to slowly take a few steps back, and then they broke into an all out run, discarding their guns as they fled back to the base in a bid to save themselves.

"Cowards!" True to his promise, the red-haired Overlander captain drew his pistol and opened fire on his retreating soldiers, the hot slivers of metal whistling past them or lodging ineffectively in their ballistic armor. "You'll just get it worse when they run you down! Keep firing! Keep firing!" He picked up a discarded rifle by the barrel and raised it like a club. He'd survived a charge once, and he knew what was about to come. Better to die swinging than be cut down like the rest of them. His eyes locked on St. John's and he rushed ahead of the line, spitting a curse as he swung for the skunk's head.

Geoffrey caught the Overlander commander squarely in the chest with his spear, the sharp tip bursting straight through his ceramic chest plate. Dropping his gun, the dying man grabbed at the haft of the spear with both hands and backpedaled uncontrollably as the skunk rushed forward with him, using his armored body as a shield from the bullet fire that now frantically focused on him. When he released the spear and sprung past it into the front line, the spear's momentum carried the Overlander to the ground, pinning him in the muddy soil as the spear raised to a vertical position, a gust of icy wind catching the Mobian flag at its base and setting it aflutter in victory.

One Overlander soldier had rose that morning and donned his armor, confident that the high-tech plastics and ceramics of his light-weight battlesuit would keep him safe from any gunfire. What it would not protect him from was two-hundred pounds of angry wolf who smashed him to the ground and drove a great-sword straight through his armor while shouting what sounded like a woman's name. Beside him, another Mobian knight swatted one of the faceless soldiers down with the flat of his axe. The next swing cut straight through the plastic rifle the Overlander had raised as a shield and met his face. Mobian craftsmanship was a legendary thing, and armor that stopped even the most powerful bullets was simply not strong enough to withstand the size and force of their master-crafted martial weapons in the hands of trained knights.

Geoffrey had used his spear attack's momentum to leap upon another soldier, drawing his short sword and plunging it into the flailing Overlander. He fell with the body, taking aim and catching another soldier with a crossbow bolt to his unprotected neck. Ahead, however, was something more capable of dealing with melee combat than the average Overlander trooper. "Look out! It's a walker!"

A large, manned weapon had waddled its way to the melee. The Overlanders had a mechanical, humanoid walking machine that stood at twice a soldier's height and could be fitted with a number of weapons on its arms. This one featured a rotating circular saw which easily cut down the first Mobian to rush at it. Its other hand opened up and released a gout of flame that incinerated an arc of incoming enemies in its path. A sudden spear whistled through the air and wedged itself in the machine's flamethrower-hand. The sudden backflow of flame and fuel blew the arm apart and the walking machine fell over with a crash. Before it could act, it was set upon by dozens of clawed hands, ripping and tearing at the armor and the screaming pilot inside.

St. John rose to his feet and surveyed the field. The turret atop the wall struggled pointlessly to pan down to aim at them, whirring and making terrible grinding sounds as it tried to reach targets far too close to attack. Geoffrey eyed an unused grenade launcher on the ground and pried it out of lifeless hands. "This'll do it. You, soldier!" He gestured to one of the smaller, more agile members of his troop, a young black rabbit, and threw the weapon to him. "You've handled a gun before, take that turret out."

"Aye, sir!" The rabbit knelt and took careful aim with his new weapon, sighting the turret and firing. The recoil knocked him onto his back with a loud 'thud' and a smoking projectile streaked through the sky. In a brilliant flash and an explosive roar, the turret evaporated and only a smoking crater in the wall remained.

With no Overlander troops on the outside of the base still living or at least no longer capable of combat, St. John raised a bloody gauntlet to the radio headset he wore and contacted the second party in the operation. "Frost. Get your people moving, we have the front gates."

Inside the Hellcat's transport vehicle, Colonel Halloway nodded into his receiver and donned his dark-colored beret. "The crazy skunk made it. Let's get inside."

A short trip across the calming battlefield later, the team arrived at the walls of the Overlander Facility. Halloway was the first off the transport as its large loading door opened, and he greeted his friend with a salute. "It's good to see you alive, Geoffrey."

"You too, Nathan." St. John saluted back, and then leaned back against a wall to let his medic continue to try to remove the bullet lightly embedded in his shoulder. "Be careful on this one, I don't like it. They didn't field the kind of force you might expect for a facility this size… I think they've committed to an internal defense. Do you want some of my men to go with you?"

The aging cat shook his head, dismissive of the notion. "No, Geoffrey. If there's a counterattack here, you'll need all the men you have." Nathan turned back to the transport and gave the signal for deployment. "All right soldiers! Broadside, get that monstrosity of yours ready to deploy, Blowout, I want a ten-by-ten foot hole in that wall right there. Bounder, Shadow, you're with me. Are we all linked up on the comm. channel, Nightshade?"

"You're all showing green to me, Sir." The soft voice of their communications officer broke the radio silence. Cocoa leaned to the side in her driver's seat and gave the thumbs up as the rest of the team exited the vehicle. "I'll keep the engine running, good luck in there."

"What do you think, Mr. Splodey?" Rikta started up a conversation with her hand grenade, which she balanced on her tail in front of her. "Should we go with the shaped charge, or just make a breaching bomb? Really? You don't say? Well, I was thinking…"

"Just do it, you crazy mongrel." Harrison slapped her across the back of the head as he passed by, making her growl at him like a canine as watched him take position.

"Meanie. All right, I'll just rig something up…" Rikta opened her kit and went to work on the wall, idly contact juggling Mr. Splodey about on her long tail.

Broadside stepped into position, spinning the barrels of his massive, cannon-like machinegun. "Heh heh heh… Kisha and I are ready for action!"

"One disappearing wall, ready to go, sir!" Rikta packed her tools hurriedly and raced to a safe distance, clutching a detonator in her trembling, excited hands. "Can I do it now? Can I? Huh, huh?"

"On three, everybody." Col. Halloway flicked the safety off on his pistol and drew a deep breath, readying his tired frame for one more mission. "One… Two…"


	11. Chapter 7 Sidestory

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I **_

_**Chapter VII Sidestory**_

"_Tales from the Great War"_

[_Author's Note: These excerpts from the late Mobian historian Dr. Maithiu Althan's research and interviews did not make it into his 'Tales from the Great War' series. As a friend of the family, they were left to me and I found this passage of particular relevance to my Mobian Chronicles._]

_I found the white wolf I was searching for standing on the doorstep of his meager, but pleasant home, hugging his grandchildren goodbye as they concluded their visit. He waved goodbye to them with his mechanical right arm as if it had always been a part of him. Upon seeing me, he extended a coarse-furred white hand. I shook it as I attempted to pronounce his distinctly wolven name. He corrected me and invited me inside. The inside of his home was warm and quiet, with a number of old photographs adorning every wall and desk. He offered me some tea, and we began the interview._

**Dr. Maithiu Althan, recording. Please state your name for the recorder, Corporal.**

Corporal Kael Hragfenr, Retired. Serial number G-857-859-72.

**Thank you. Now, please tell me a little about your life before the war.**

Ah, let's see… I was born in the year 598, old calendar. I was born in the wastes of the great north, White Fang Tribe. About two-hundred of us there; this was long before the tribes all consolidated under the Wolf Pack... we were all around back then. I had a normal enough life for a tribal wolf, I suppose, until I was twelve; that's when the war came to me.

**Really? That far north and you still saw fighting?**

I didn't understand it at the time. Keep in mind, I was twelve years old. My parents had been dead for years; it was just me, taking care of my younger sister, Vesna. To me, the war was something for the city-people. Overlanders didn't come here; they didn't fight here. All of that was far away and far from my mind, living day-to-day. I found out years after the war from an old friend in Intel why they came to my village. What happened was the Overlanders needed an out of the way location to create a secret weapons test site, something far from prying Mobian eyes. They built it in the mountains not too far from my tribe's winter campsite. To keep their secret, they decided to genocide my people.

**They launched a full-scale attack on you? Weren't you neutral at the time?**

I think so. A lot of the tribes up north were neutral. A few joined up with the rest of the Mobians, and a smaller few actually traded regularly with the Overlanders before the war, and joined them. I don't think we had a side, but they didn't care. The night they attacked, an entire division of Overlanders came down on us. The 224th division. I saw the number on their arm plates. They looted everything, and burned what they couldn't take. I'm not sure why they took so much, actually: Maybe they were low on supplies that far north and needed our food, or our animals' skins. Maybe they were just mad at being stationed in the cold and took that out on us. I'd never seen an Overlander before that night. I thought the were some sort of faceless machines, marching in line, in that featureless body armor, guns firing away. They eradicated my entire clan and all of it's thousands of years of history in a single night. As far as I know, none of them were killed.

**How did you survive the attack?**

Luck, probably. I remember being in my hut. I confronted them, trying to save my sister. I came at the first one who entered the tent, sunk my claws into him and they bit through the heavy fabrics at the joint where the shoulder plate met his chest plate. I was young, and stronger than him, but he was still bigger, and he had a weapon. He clocked me across the jaw with the butt of his rifle, and I fell, half conscious. I think he must have thought I was dead, because he ignored me from then out. The last thing I remember before I passed out was him reaching down and taking my grandfather's necklace from around my neck. It was gold, and probably caught his eye. I woke up to the smell of fires. My sister was dead, and so was everyone else I came upon as I fled my tribe's camp. The Overlanders were long gone, but the fires were still going strong. I went south, and never looked back. I guess it sounds cold to say it like that... but it's just... Sorry, sorry.

**Oh, no, it's my apologies, really. Do you want to stop the interview?**

Hmm? No. No, that's fine. I just needed a second, there. I don't think a lot about that night. I, uhh. I went south. Just sort of wandered until I found a city. Wound up at a recruiting station with nothing to lose and a lot of anger and hate for the Overlanders. Before I knew it, I was in knight training. They gave me the really rough stuff, me being a wolf and all. Six years of the hardest training they had, and when I was done, they gave me a suit of platemail, a battleaxe, and my pick of postings. I'd known for a few years, by then, where I wanted to be. I signed up for the Knave Knights.

**Ah, you mean you served under Sir Geoffrey St. John. I've rarely heard his corps called that outside of interviews with members of it.**

Oh, yeah! We called him Suicide St. John. Other knights called us the Knave Knights because we didn't adhere to the knight's code. We didn't surrender, for example. Also didn't take prisoners, period. St. John had a rule called 'Done or Dead' we lived by.

**Done or Dead?**

It meant that if you received a mission, you didn't stop until it was done, or you were dead. If the mission was a failure, it meant the entire team involved died in action, trying. And that meant that every man and woman I served beside in the Knaves had never once failed.

**Were there many women in the Knaves?**

Yeah, quite a few. They couldn't get in the other knight corps because of the code. Had washouts from some of the other orders, a few Royal Guard, even some mercenaries that decided to stop doing it for the money. Didn't matter if you had a criminal record, or anything. Didn't even matter if you were an actual criminal at the time, in fact. If you were good enough for St. John, and you either wanted or were willing to die on command, you were in.

**Did St. John often put you in a dangerous position?**

That's why he was 'Suicide' St. John. I once charged into a wall of automatic fire to flank a position for those Royal Guard boys. That was before the bullet-resistant armor was in use, mind you. Fifty of us started that charge, and by the Harvester, four of us saw it through. Just me and three of my buddies. Nobody else! Everyone else is strewn from there to the Overlander position, and not even a dent in my armor.

_He laughed suddenly, here, and smiled at me. As odd as it seemed, this appeared to be one of his happier memories._

Things like that made you feel invincible. And that's how you had to feel, to keep going. That was the power of hatred. I never met anyone who hated the Overlanders as much as St. John did, and he taught us to use our hate to kill our fears. That's the real thing that everyone in the Knaves had in common. They all hated the Overlanders. All Overlanders, for whatever reasons they each had.

**What about Geoffrey St. John himself?**

Ohh, nobody can tell you that one. I wonder why he hated them so bad myself. Some of the troops said he'd been captured once, tortured, escaped. Some others claimed the Overlanders killed his children, if he even had any. He never told us why, that's for sure. I think he'd just seen enough barbarism and violence to pass judgment on the whole lot of them. We didn't ask him, he didn't ask us. Your hatred was your own until you got revenge, and then you were out of the Knaves, and the whole army if you chose, with an honorable discharge. If you felt like it, you could tell them then, but not before. That's how I got out, actually.

**Please, do tell me more about that if you don't mind, it's perfect for my notes.**

It was in the last year or so of the war. Some of the Knaves were going to be doing another suicide charge, this time on defensive line for some Overlander research base. I wasn't part of the operation at that point. But I looked through my binoculars and saw that 'Two-Two-Four' embossed on the Overlanders' armor and I knew this was it. I'd looked for them for years. I'd waited for them, for years, looking at the number on every Overlander I killed, hoping I'd just taken on the division I was really after. Before the Knaves went out, I told St. John I had to be in the charge, and that it was a personal matter.

**And he stopped and drew you in to the battle plan, just like that?**

Those were the rules in the Knaves. We all knew that every member had someone, or a few someones out there they had a personal vendetta against. All you had to do to opt in to a mission was to tell him it was a personal matter. That was our little code for saying we'd found the ones we were after. And just like that, you'd be in, no matter what. I charged beside St. John and the finest soldiers I ever knew. I heard a lot of them die around me as we ran for those 224s. I took two bullets in my right arm that ruined it forever, but I buried my ax to the hilt in the chest of one of those Overlanders and heard him scream. When it was all over, the 224th no longer existed. We'd wiped them out to the man, and avenged my tribe. I stood over the scene and felt the years pour out of me like the blood from my wound. My hatred, my strength drained away, but I needed to make sure of one last thing before I could let it all go.

**Of course. The one that killed your sister?**

I went back to the one I'd killed at the moment our charge had hit them. There were the scratch marks in his shoulder armor. I tore the plate away and looked at the scars in his shoulder; the ones I'd given him that night in my hut, years before. I took the necklace from around his neck and put it back on; the last little bit of heritage my tribe had left, and the war ended for me. I was no more use to the Knaves without my arm, without my hatred, and they sent me off with honor the next day as my friends. That was the last I saw of most of them. With my sister and my people avenged as best I could, I started my life, and now I'm the old grandfather you see here today, drinking tea and sitting around playing cards in my house. I don't miss the war. I don't miss all the hate. There's a certain forgiveness that finds you once you've carried that much emotional weight so long, and I'm glad to be rid of it all.

**Thank you very much, Mr. Hragfenr. I believe I have everything I need for your chapter, so I should be going soon. Is there anything else you want to say for the recording?**

Just one thing. When I took back my family's necklace, I had to do one other thing. I had to take off his mask, and see him, face to face. Even if he was dead, I needed to see him, to look into his eyes and try to understand him before he was gone from my life forever. I'd stared into that black visor every night in my dreams for years, and I had to know what was behind it; what I was so afraid of. I'd never seen an Overlander's face before, actually, I'd never cared to; it was his specific face that personally interested me. I took that mask off of him, doctor, and I looked right at him, expecting to see the monster that I'd been so scared of, deep inside for all my adult life. I took it off, and I saw. What I saw put an end to my nightmares; never had them again.

**What did you see?**

_He smiled at me here, and looked out his window, staring back into the past. When he spoke again, it was quietly, thoughtfully, but his smile remained. _

Just a man.


	12. Chapter 8

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter VIII: **__'Underground'_

As the storms of war raged to the north, Mid-day in Mobotropolis saw a storm of a different kind rolling through. The clear blue skies of that morning had given way to the gray clouds of the seasonal storms, and soon the city was caught in a downpour.

Five young Mobians raced through the empty grayscale streets, seeking something other than cover from the storm; Sonic the Hedgehog, Princess Sally Acorn, and their friends, Bunnie Rabbot, Antoine D'Coolette, and Rotor Walrus sought a way into the underground.

All her young life, Sally Acorn had wanted an adventure; a journey surrounded by friends, far away from the stuffy confines of the castle and the responsibility of royalty. As she felt the first cool drops of rain and looked up into the empty, vast sky, she realized she'd gotten her wish at last. There was no servant holding an umbrella over her head, blocking out the sky, no armed guards to protect her. There was nothing keeping her from seeing the world, at least for today. Her run slowed to a walk, then to a stop; and as her friends passed her, she laughed, happy for the first time in recent memory.

Sonic slowed to a stop, hearing his friend's laughter, and turned back with the others. "Sally? Uhm… what's so funny? We're gettin' soaked, here."

Sally glanced to her side and watched a flock of silvery-colored birds take flight from an alleyway, flying off to find shelter from the rain. She smiled as the birds flew away, free. "Sorry, Sonic… it's nothing. Let's keep going."

Antoine produced a collapsible umbrella from his jacket and deployed it, extending his arm to the princess. "Your Highness? Allow _moi _to keep zees rain off you?"

"…no, Antoine." Sally pushed the umbrella away gently, smiling. "You're very sweet, but… I'd like to stay in the rain." She ran ahead to join Sonic, leaving the dejected coyote to slump his shoulders and sigh.

"Ah'll take ya'll up on that offer, sugah." Bunnie sidestepped under the umbrella and nodded appreciatively. "Why, ah'll even help ya'll hold it up." She took his umbrella hand in hers and grinned at the blushing coyote, leading him on after the others.

"Don't know why you guys are so afraid of a little cold and some rain…" Rotor brought up the rear of the group, splashing in every puddle he passed. "Reminds me of home."

Sonic had been dashing back and forth, trying in vain to dodge individual raindrops with his speed when he suddenly darted around a corner and back, pressing himself up to the wall as stealthily as he could. "Hey!" He called back to his friends in a hushed voice. "Check this out, I found it!" The others filed in behind him, save for Antoine, whom Sonic tripped and sent splashing into a puddle at his feet, leaving Bunnie to hold the umbrella. Sonic stooped down to the fallen, dazed coyote, putting his finger to his lips and hissing a quiet 'shhhhhhhh' at him.

A column of five small heads and an umbrella peered around the corner, and spied the small, hut-like building they sought; a sewer access building. It was flanked by a pair of armed and armored guards.

"Ugh! Harvester take these helmets!" One of the guards unfastened his half-helmet and threw it to the wet concrete with a clang and splash. He was a young white rabbit, and his ears suddenly bounced up, free of the painful confinement.

The other guard was an avian of some type, his yellow beak protruded from his own helm which he adjusted in the futile search for comfort. "I hear you. It's like they designed the City Guard helmet to funnel rainwater right into your eyes…"

"There's not even a place for my ears! This uni-species stuff is terrible! I miss my cavalry armor, they custom make it for you, you know…"

The bird looked over to his companion; his eyes were obscured by the visor, but he shifted his beak incredulously. "What are you on about now? You were never in the Cavalry Corps!"

"Sure I was! I used to race boroga back on the farm, growing up, and I ended up applying for a cavalry posting when my service time came up!" The rabbit demonstrated a few complicated techniques with his spear, and this seemed to convince his friend.

"Well I'll be." The bird leaned on his own spear and sighed. "So, were you any good?"

"The best! My boroga was the fastest that ever lived, and I could leave anybody in the dust."

An obvious question suddenly arose. "Then why are you in the City Guard, standing watch over a sewer, in a rainstorm, with a jerk like me?"

The white rabbit set his spear against the wall and popped his neck, shuffling uncomfortably. "Well… that's the thing, you see. They armor you and your mount both, and after they put the helmet on my boroga she couldn't see. Stupid lizard panicked the second I got on and bolted; tore straight through the commander's tent and wrecked the entire thing. They blamed it on me and kicked me out of the corps after that."

"Wow, that's rough."

The children leaned back behind the wall again to plan. Rotor was the first to present the problem. "Well, that's a sewer entrance all right, but how are we getting in? Those guys would never let us pass."

Sonic nodded to himself slowly, eyeing the helmet sitting around the corner. "Just leave it to me… I've got this one!" Before he could be pressed for explanation, the hedgehog was already around the corner, staring down the two guards. He picked up the discarded helmet and put it on, sticking his tongue out at them. "Look at me; I'm a big stupid guard! My helmet doesn't fit! City Guards suck!" Sonic revved up and vanished into the distance with a burst of unnatural speed.

"Hey!" The rabbit guardsman brandished his spear and gave futile chase, his partner following close behind. "That's my helmet, you little… get back here, you little hoodlum!"

As the guards disappeared down another street, Sonic skid to a stop beside his friends, taking off his helmet and tossing it back to where he found it. "How's that?"

"Oh, thees is _fantastique_, no?" Antoine scoffed, wringing out his jacket sleeves. "Now when we are to be coming back out, the guards will be back, and they will be angry with us! We are now… how do you say? _Faux-jateeves_."

"Ah think ya'll mean 'fugitives', sugah."

Sally, however, was content with the hedgehog's trick, if not his lack of communication. "That was… actually pretty good, Sonic. Let's get down there before those guards come back."

Sonic and Rotor tracked down a suitable pole for prying the access hatch up, and soon the five intrepid children were staring down into the darkness below. Nicole's flashlight attachment cast a beam into the hole, revealing the ladder. There was a long, awkward silence, and Rotor was the one to break it. "So… who's going down first?"

"I'm the leader, so I'll do it." Sally grabbed hold of the ladder's top rung and descended into another world. Her computer's light illuminated a passage that was as much cave as tunnel; the centuries-old section of the sewer was covered in moss and slime, the brown brickwork tinged green with the virulent fungus and plant life that overran it all. A metal walkway with long-missing rails ran the length of the tunnel on either side, and a river of floodwater ran below, racing like rapids until it fell off a drop into pitch darkness. Still, there was the sign of life here. Quite literally, a sign that read 'Undercity' in scrawled red paint was nailed into the grimy wall, with an arrow pointing the way.

"Whoa…" Sonic came down behind her, awed at this alien world, so different from the city they knew. He shouted back up the ladder. "Watch it down here guys! You fall in the water and you're a goner!"

"No rails? That doesn't seem right at all…" Bunnie dropped off the last few rungs and landed with clang on the metal walkway. "Whew. This isn't safe, Sally-girl."

"They probably actually had rails at some point… These sewers are hundreds of years old. Someone must have scavenged them or something. There's probably a lot of demand for metal and… eww…" Rotor finally set foot on the slimy path, looking down at his feet with great displeasure. "I wish I had shoes like you guys."

"Hey, you coming or what, Antoine?" Sonic stood at the base of the ladder and shouted up to the coyote above, all sense of stealth of sneaking lost on him.

"…I am thinking I shall be standing guard here so as to keep all of you safe?" The coyote's timid voice drifted down to them.

Sonic snickered and shouted back up the ladder again. "Ha! Yeah, you do that, Ant! Just wait up there. Alone, in the cold. We'll be back sooner or later!"

There was silence above for several seconds, then, "I am coming… please wait for moi!"

"What a hero." Sonic shook his head at his trembling friend descending the ladder. Antoine caught his sleeve on the hatch hinge and it shut as he shook it free, leaving the five in the quiet darkness.

Antoine contained his fright at the sudden slam of the hatch, and the four below could hear him as he attempted to reopen it. After a few tense moments of quiet rustling, he sighed quietly. "Ah… eet ees locked, I think…?"

"It must automatically lock when it closes…" Rotor found his own flashlight in the pack of tools he was carrying and turned it on, the beam joining with the light from Nicole to help them get their bearings. "That's not good. I don't know where the next hatch will be. Let's check our maps. Hand 'em over, Antoine."

"Uhm… yes… about that…" Antoine shifted nervously in the beam of the flashlight.

"You left them up there, didn't you?"

"Eet ees uh… _possibleu _that I may have… Please do not be casting me out of the group! I can navigate us safely by my own sensible direction, I promise you!"

"Nicole has no maps for this part of the sewer system, so we're lost." Sally cast the light of her computer to the wall sign as she addressed the group. "No offense to you, Antoine, but we're going to follow this sign. Undercity can't be far, and we need to move fast if we're going to find this sage before anyone notices we're all missing."

A distant rumble in the world above hinted that the storm outside was only going to get worse.


	13. Chapter 9

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter IX: **__'Passing the Torch'_

"Three!" A large explosion marked the beginning of a new battle as Nathan Halloway and his Hellcats stormed through the breach in the facility wall. The hulking tiger known as 'Broadside' was the first through the breach, his massive gun spinning up and spraying a cone of withering fire into the smoke and chaos of the barracks they'd broken into.

"Ahahahahaaaa!" The tiger laughed maniacally at the return fire which struck his heavy body armor with a chorus of loud clacks; he was far removed from the normal knights the Overlanders were used to facing. Others would have died, but the hellcats were a different breed of soldier than what the average Overlander was prepared for. Few in number, but far more skilled, the special agents of the king dressed in the bullet-stopping armor of their Overlander foes. They wielded guns, and ignored the rules of warfare. They did whatever had to be done to win. "Little hairless things are no match for my darling Kisha!" The chaos in the room only escalated as he ran through his first belt of ammo, and fearlessly reloaded 'Kisha' in the middle of the room, still grinning and laughing in the hail of fire. "Is good!" He clicked the first of the new rounds into the mechanism and readied himself anew. "Move up!" The tiger cut down the entire room by the time his companions had taken their positions.

"This whole place is gonna be on high alert." Colonel Halloway casually walked through the smoke of the now-quiet barracks, half to not the troop counts, half to admire his teammate's deadly handiwork. "They know we're inside now, so we'll just have to…" A faint hiss caught is ear as the door out of the barracks began to automatically close in lockdown. "Door!" He shouted, pointing.

A furred blur darted past him at the pinnacle of natural Mobian speed, flying under the door as it sealed shut and disappearing. There was the sudden sound of a brutal beating on the other side, a sharp pair of screams and then the crackle of electricity. The door hissed upwards again as the Hellcats' close combat expert, Jack Acres, calmly walked back though, no longer in such a hurry. "Well, I'm warmed up now, I think." The spry feline rotated his shoulder and popped his neck casually. "Lockdown is disabled in this section of the base, I think. The panels are all geno-locked, but one of the Overlanders in the hall, uh… lent me a hand."

"Ugh. Yeah. And he won't be needing it anymore." Harrison glanced at the bodies in the hallway and winced, always disturbed by how quickly and completely his teammate could break someone even through their armor. "Remind me not to get on your bad side, Jack."

Acres chuckled and bowed his head to his longtime friend. "The ancient art of Claw, Feather, and Fin is never used in anger, Johnny, only defense. I must be of a serene mind to move and act with the speeds I do. Anger would only-whoa!"

Broadside stormed past into the hall, ready for the next wave of troops to pour around the turn of the hallway. "Now is not time for martial arts lesson! Now is time for killing furless cowards!" He raised the bulletproof visor on his massive helmet. "Come and face Kisha, little, little men!!!" He bellowed his challenge down the halls, likely carrying through most of the base.

"You are _bad_ at stealth, big guy." Harrison patted the tiger on his plated back and pressed himself to a wall, pulling down his black cloth facemask and un-holstering his dull black handgun.

"Bah, is plan!" Broadside countered with his usual odd logic. "Now they come for me, and you go sneak around base with others, no people in way for Acres to have to tie in knots!"

"Oh yeah, no arguing with that." Jonathan deadpanned, rolling his yellow eyes.

"You see." Broadside pointed to his helmeted head, his stare intense and serious. "Tactical mastermind." He nodded sharply to close his visor and then focused his attention on the hallway he was guarding.

… … …

Deeper inside the Overlander base, the server room was the site of a small, methodical group of soldiers moving from console to console, backing up the server data and then demolishing each server in turn.

"Make sure you're thorough, boys." The base director, in his black beret and dark brown uniform patrolled behind each team in the rush to keep their work out of Mobian hands. His name tag read 'Chapman, Jacob D.' "We didn't spend all this time and money on R&D just to have the Mobians steal it out from under us. And take your time on the project data; we can't afford to let them get it, but we can't afford to lose it either!"

The server room doors opened to a battered squad of Overlander soldiers, who fell in line in front of Chapman. The Squad leader gave the report, his voice crackling through the almost-invisible mouthpiece on his featureless helmet. "Sir, the Mobian forces have breached the inner defenses. Troops are being redirected to the emergency defense lines."

"Damn!" Chapman's hazel eyes flashed with anger at being outplayed by the enemy. He tossed his beret into the flames of a burning console and ran a hand through his short-cut brown hair. "All right boys, we're out of time. Take what you have and get to the hangar. Sergeant?"

"Yes sir?" The rough voice crackled back through the mouthpiece once again.

"Funnel them in to Data Relay, and then surround them. They can get the data, but they can't get back out with it. Your exo-suit has a power armor interface port, right?

"Yes sir."

"Good, you're about my height, too." Chapman motioned for his subordinate's body armor and helmet. "Give me your exo, and tell the boys in the hangar to prep the OX-44 for use, I'll cover our escape in it."

"The Eviscerator prototype? But there's insufficient combat testing to control it manned, sir…"

"Well, I'm about to get some testing in. Let's move it."

… … …

"Something's not right, Frost…." Harrison whispered to his longtime friend and leader as they moved slowly, quietly, through the rooms and corridors of the base. "Why aren't the Overlanders attacking us?"

"Other than the odd bit of cannon fodder, you mean?" Nathan Halloway crouched to place a small device on the floor, sliding it back and forth until a green light shone from within it. It scanned for large amounts of electrical current, letting them follow the server relay cables beneath the floor plates straight to their destination. "Still on the right track, data center must be right around the corner. You're right, though, they're not even trying to stop us at this point."

"Could be evacuating." Jack checked behind them with a quick glance, still no one in sight. "Wouldn't be the first time we've seen it happen."

"And just let us make off with decades of weapons research?" Harrison stopped at the sliding metal door they sought, prying off the control console's faceplate and setting to work on getting it to open for them. "No way, from what I know from Doc Kintobor, they'd all get executed for sure. He said they'd defend this place to the last man or destroy the data… but it looks like the data center is still intact." He fiddled with the guts of the console a little more, the tip of his black tail flicking behind him as he worked. "There we go. Door opens in three… two… one… now!"

The three Mobians rolled through the sliding door into a dimly lit room. The ceiling lights were off, only the ghostly glow of the many computer monitors that covered the walls gave illumination. "No one in here, either…" Johnny looked around with an eyepiece, searching for hidden combatants in the dark, but there were none. "This is starting to creep me out. Do you think that stupid idea of Broadside's worked, and he really killed everyone?"

"I strongly doubt that. You get on the consoles and do your thing. I don't want to be here any longer than we have to be." Halloway turned his headset microphone on and lowered it just enough to not interfere with his cigar. "Nightshade, what's going on here?"

"I'm not sure, sir. The internal chatter in the base is very quiet now. They know you're in there, but no one is moving or talking now. I'm going to get started helping with the data recovery, if I'm plugged in."

"You're all set, girl." Harrison finished connecting a device to the main terminal in the room and smiled into his own microphone. "I just set it up, let's get started." He holstered his pistol and drew a screwdriver instead, opening up an access panel and half-crawling inside to take care of the physical half of the system security. "This won't take long, Frost. I got a good idea of how this system works. Better get on the horn with the rest of the team."

Halloway changed his frequency and made contact with the remainder of the group. "Broadside, this is Frost. We're making the grab, what's your status?"

"Is all good here, boss." Broadside's voice came through loud enough that the others could hear, making Nathan wince in surprise. "Tiny cowards have given up attacking me. Gotten quiet for last couple minutes."

"Is Blowout still with you?"

"Uh… hmm." There was a pause. "Uhm… she's not here. Not sure where she went."

"What!? You were supposed to keep an eye on her! There's no telling what she'll do if she finds the heavy ordnance storage or something!"

"Want me to go find her, boss?"

"No!" Nathan paused and regained his composure. "You stay where you are and keep the channel open. Frost out." The white cat slowly shook his head. "Blowout snuck off again."

"Oh great!" Harrison's voice echoed inside the console as he worked on the wiring. "That's just what we need. She's probably running around setting the base to blow up or something…" He'd been the victim of a number of her explosive pranks since she had joined the group. Harrison liked the mongrel cat the least of all for her terrible sense of humor and terrible sense of safety.

"I am in the system." The quiet voice of Nightshade came back over the communicators. "The system believes I am the base commander, I'm making inquiries for data now, but it will take a few minutes. The data I have so far is full of holes though, I think they might be destroying the servers to stop us… Wait a minute, there's communication on the network again! There are a large number of Overlander soldiers heading right for Data Relay!"

"They waited for us to start the data grab…" Acres grudgingly admired the strategy.

"…so we'd stay put in one place for them! "Nathan finished the sentence for him, just as the first olive-armored soldiers rounded the corner at the far end of the hall. The rhythmic clatter of plastic boots in the distance indicated a great many of them to follow. "Shadow! Close the doors!"

Harrison quickly escaped the console crawlspace and scrambled to the door panel, prying at it with his claws to get it open. "How much time do I have?"

Halloway discarded his cigar, taking up his gun and taking cover against the wall beside the doors, firing blindly down the hall at the incoming troops, who were now firing back in great numbers. "Not very long!"

Dispensing with skill or style, Johnny stammered at the door panel for a moment before deciding to just empty his pistol's clip into it. The metal doors slowly began to slide shut, trapping the Overlanders outside, and the Mobians inside. "All right… uh, that should hold for a minute."

"Classy. Now how do we get out?" Jack folded his arms and sighed.

Nathan sat silent for a moment, thinking over the sounds and shouts of the small army just outside. "Open your pack up, Bounder. We're going to use the magnetosphere." He intercepted his fellow feline's complaint before he could protest. "I know you hate that thing, but it's the only way we're getting through them."

The Hellcats were often equipped with new, untested, or exotic equipment to help them get the job done. One such piece was a set of gloves, boots and belt collectively dubbed the magnetosphere. The device used top-secret electromagnetic technology from the Scientific Council to project a shapeable field of magnetism around the user. The magnetic power of the device was considerable, and frightening. Electronics shorted out with a passing touch, forged metal crumpled before it like paper, and bullets and metal weapons couldn't touch it, no matter the speed or force. It was never mass-produced and never caught on with the troops because the users experienced intense headaches, nausea, and other symptoms from standing in the field. It was also impossible to have any metal equipment on when using it, which made the cloth-clad and weaponless martial artist Jack 'Bounder' Acres the only one in the group who used it.

Acres discarded his earpiece and pack, donning the boots, gloves, and belt with apprehension. "I really hate this thing!" He hissed quietly.

What happened to that serene mind stuff, Jack?" Harrison knelt in front of his friend's belt interface, calibrating the device for him.

"You just make sure the field doesn't cover the bottom of my feet; the floor's metal. I don't want to slam through the ceiling at mach five when I turn this thing on."

"Nightshade." Halloway got back on his communicator, slowly backing away from the dreaded device his companion wore. "We're going to use the magnetosphere, so I don't think we'll be able to contact you again for a while. Have you got the data?"

"Yes sir. Transfer just finished, and the link is closed down."

"Good, what's at the edge of the base, in a straight line from the doors to Data Relay?"

"The main hangar is at the far end. There's a lot of turns in the corridors to get there though, you want me to plot you a course?"

"No… I don't think that will be a problem. Position the transport in the hangar and get ready to pick us up. Get on the horn with Broadside and let him know it's time to leave." Halloway looked to his companions, nodding. They understood his plan.

"Understood sir. Nightshade out."

"Okay, you're calibrated! It's ready to go." Harrison flipped a switch and broke into a run away from the calico cat as the magnetosphere powered up.

Jack clicked his heels and clapped his hands once, activating the device. The air around him rippled slightly and a dull hum filled the air. He wiped his nose and sniffled slightly, frowning. "Always gives me a migraine and a nosebleed when it starts up… Is the door set to open?"

Johnny cast a glance to the smoldering control panel he'd shot out. "I… don't think I can get the door for you, buddy."

"Not a problem. Get ready to make a run for it." Jack placed his padded palms against the smooth metal doors and took a deep breath. He spread his fingers and the super-magnetic field radiated out, shearing the doors out of the wall with a deafening metallic screech and sending them flying down the hall like bullets. A sizable number of the Overlanders outside were killed or incapacitated outright as the deadly doors tore their way through the hallway.

"Go!" Jack broke into a run, pouncing on the first soldier in his way and shattering his faceplate with an expert strike. Electricity crackled around him as lights shorted and electronics in the walls and floor vomited forth wiring and fasteners. The hall degenerated into total chaos in seconds; bullets ricocheted back into the very soldiers who had fired them, guns flew from flailing hands and soared about, and soldier after soldier was broken under the martial artist's deft kicks and punches. Jack vaulted over one of the Overlanders, grabbing him by the head and twisting it back as he hurled the larger being into the rest of the amassed troops. A scooping motion of his hands swept up a floor plate that plowed further through the lines; his array of techniques advanced him through impossible numbers of unprepared soldiers at the pace of a sprint.

Johnny and Nathan grabbed the plastic chest pieces of two downed soldiers and raced behind him at a safe distance, holding out their makeshift shields to protect them from flying debris.

Jack balled his fist and threw a punch at the wall at the end of the hallway long before he reached it. The shaped burst of magnetic force blew a hole in the wall as the outer metal tore inwards, pulverizing the concrete core of the wall and allowing the Mobians through the improvised doorway. He continued this technique in room after room, blasting a straight line through to the hangar until he skid at last to a sliding stop just inside the cavernous bay hangar, his magnetosphere drained of power. "The capacitor's drained! It'll take a bit to recharge!"

"No need, we're here!" Halloway discarded his shield as he ran into the hangar behind him. "Where's the transport?" "His eyes darted over the numerous war machines parked in the darkened hangar, but their own had not arrived yet. "Get the lights and find some cover, we'll hold here and-"

A tank soared through the air over the trio, crashing through the remains of the wall behind them. "You little thieves!" A male voice blared through a speaker somewhere behind one of the largest vehicles in the hangar. It was lifted and thrown as well, narrowly missing the Hellcats once again. Their attacker roared into view as the lights came on; a massive suit of black power armor, easily four or five times their height and built like a strangely proportioned, hunchbacked Overlander; with short legs and long, thick arms with broad hands that nearly dragged the floor. Its glowing camera eye fixed on them as the machine skid along the hanger floor, sliding on thrusters in the feet in a roller-skating motion. "Did you little hairballs really think I'd just let you walk right out of here with my data? Raaaaagh!" The mechanical suit launched forward with the thrusters in its sloped back, kicking a tank with one leg and sending it skidding along the ground at them at speeds its treads could never have made under its own power.

"Split up!" Halloway went prone as the machine slid safely over him, Acres and Harrison leapt to the sides and began circling the hangar to give their enemy more targets.

"Did I miss a memo in the briefing or something?" Johnny took cover behind a vehicle, reloading his pistol and drawing his other one. "What in The Harrowing is this thing?"

"It's got to be some sort of prototype!" Halloway scrambled to his feet and recovered the rifle from his back. "I've never seen anything like this one! Maybe this is what they were developing!

"Do you like my baby?" The voice inside the suit crackled. "She's my life's work!" The armor lunged at Bounder, but he slid between the legs and ran. "Hey, you're quick! But it won't save you from the Eviscerator!" A missile pod opened on the machine's hunched back and a volley of small explosives rocketed after the calico, forcing him to take cover once again. "Now where did you go?" A sweep of its arm dismissed much of the resulting smoke as the colonel searched for his elusive foe. "Here, kitty, kitty…"

Realizing his unarmed friend was not equipped to fight such a thing, Halloway opened fire, shouting and waving an arm to it to try and draw its attention. "Hey! Over here! Come pick on someone your own size!"

"Oh??" The armored suit craned its neck to the white cat and turned to face him. "You got some big ones, pal, I'll give you that!" The bullets bounced harmlessly of the armor; even firearms lacked the force to harm it. "Heh heh, you think you can hurt this thing, old man? Just like a little bug!" Its treelike arm crashed down where the cat had stood a moment before.

"Damn it, Cocoa, where are you!" Harrison, too, futilely fired at the machine, his handguns even less effective.

On cue, the Hellcat's transport vehicle, _The Cradle_, burst through the bay doors of the hangar and turned sharply, its six wheels leaving deep black skid marks on the smooth silver floor as it stopped. The rear door of the Cradle lowered, and Broadside stepped out, his weapon at the ready. "Ooh! Little men have big robot now! I want one too!"

Rikta poked her head out of the transport and waved. "Hiiiiii! I'm here too!"

"Rikta! There you are!" "Halloway took cover inside the transport as the others distracted the machine. "I want you to start rigging this place with demolition charges. We're going to bring the whole place down on that thing's head!"

"Hehehehehe…" Rikta giggled, grinning widely and juggling her pet grenade about with her tail. "… I already did!"

"You—WHAT!?" How did you…? Nevermind! Just stay here!" Halloway took a grenade launcher from the racks on the wall and stepped outside to join Broadside in combat.

Harrison and Acres were still fleeing and hiding from the armored giant, each one drawing attention from the other in turns. Broadside fired at its back, but even his beloved 'Kisha' couldn't deal any meaningful damage to the armor plating. It wasn't until the first grenade hit the back of the suit that the Colonel took notice of anything else.

"Get out of here, you two!" Halloway fired off another round from the heavy grenade launcher to cover his team's escape. The recoil of the weapon forced him back a step every time.

Chapman's armor spun around quickly on its foot-mounted jets, turning to face the old cat. "I've had it with you, old man!" The robotic suit threw a punch that cratered the metal floor as Halloway retreated once more.

Rikta threw a small handheld device to her black-furred partner as he boarded the_ Cradle _to retrieve some heavier equipment. "Johnny! JohnnyJohnnyJohnny!" She hopped up and down as he eyed the suspicious device. "Push the button!"

"What is this thing?" Harrison was dubious. He'd played 'push the button' with Blowout before, and the bright red button on the device with the smiling feline face crudely drawn on it in markers was unsettlingly familiar…

"It's the hangar detonator!" Push the button!"

"Gods, _No!_" Johnny thought to throw it away, but feared accidentally activating it. He took it with him as he departed the transport to rejoin the fight.

A team of Overlander soldiers was joining the fight, keeping Halloway and Broadside busy and cutting them off from the rest of the team and the transport. Harrison pulled Jack down behind a large tank nearby and gestured for him to stay down amongst the armful of tools he'd grabbed from their transport. "Take off the magnetosphere." He whispered in a hiss. "I got an idea, if you can buy me a minute."

"There's no juice left in it, Johnny." Jack obeyed, but he shook his head in doubt, handing over the boots first. "It won't stay on longer than a split-second." Seeing Johnny cutting into the boots with his claws and prying the actual electronics off of the cloth, he questioned him even further. "What are you doing?"

"A little battlefield engineering…" Harrison propped each one of the magnetism projectors on bits of cloth, carefully arranging them and reconnecting their wiring to the belt controls, placed just behind them. "We're makin' a rail gun. Just, without the gun part."

"You're going to use the magnets to shoot it? What's the projectile?" Jack noticed that the magnets all pointed to a focal point on the tank they were hiding behind. "Oh, gods… really?" He instinctively began backing away. "Can they really launch it?"

"Gonna find out in a sec." Harrison finished calibrating the belt controls and sat them back down. "Let me know when he moves into the line of fire, okay?"

"You're good!" Jack gave him the thumbs-up after a peek around the side of the tank.

"Okay then…" Johnny pressed a button on the control belt and began backing off. "It's on, run for it!"

There was a faint hum for a moment, then the smell of burnt air and a loud pop. The resultant magnetic pulse left the tank unfettered by the laws of nature, and rocketed at the hulking robot suit at bullet velocity, breaking into pieces during the sudden acceleration. The glowing-hot shards of the tank tore the machine in half at the midsection and took the lower half with it as it fused to the reinforced far wall, leaving the lifeless upper body of the thing sprawled on the hangar floor.

Johnny ran out to inspect his shot. "Wow… that worked better than I thought it would…"

"Good job!" Nathan put down the last Overlanders in the hangar with a grenade shot to their cover. "What'd you… do to it?"

"Oh, well…" Harrison strode confidently towards the wrecked robot, cracking a grin. "You know." He shrugged. "I shot it."

"Well then, let's get out of here before reinforcements-"

The upper body of the robot sprang back to life, camera eye aglow once again as it thrashed at the Hellcats. Chapman's voice came out, garbled, over its speakers. "I don't know WHAT you just did to my baby, but you'll die for it!" Evidently, the cockpit was not in the midsection. One of the weapon pods on its humped back deployed a large, scale-size shotgun, which landed in front of him with a heavy clang. Snatching it up in one hand and stabilizing his fallen form with the other, Colonel Chapman took aim at the Hellcats' leader.

Halloway burst into a sprint, discarding his weapon and heavy coat in one motion as he raced to outrun the tracking arm of the damaged power armor. The first shotgun blast sent a wall of ball-bearings though the air just behind him, shredding his coat to ribbons and warping the grenade launcher beyond recognition. The second shot hit lower, but closer, tearing long, then trenches out of the floor just behind the racing white cat.

"_No!!_" Harrison leapt to save his leader, intent on ramming the shotgun in the side with his shoulder to knock its aim off, but the oversized shell ejected out the side from the second shot struck him in the chest and sent him sprawling to the ground, winded and barely conscious.

Halloway dove for cover behind one of the few remaining armored vehicles not evacuated or destroyed in the fight. The next blast of the shotgun perforated the entire vehicle. A moment passed, but Nathan did not emerge from the other side.

"You pay!" Broadside leapt down from the fallen power armor's back, bringing Kisha down like a club. It struck the Eviscerator armor in the top of the head, shattering the camera and delicate sensory equipment. The machine ground to a halt, going lifeless once again, the shotgun falling from its hand.

"Nathan!" Harrison scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he ran behind the wreckage of the armored vehicle. "Oh, Gods, Nathan…"

It was a miracle the dying old cat was alive at all. There were holes in his body from the shrapnel of the armored transport coming apart right behind him. He was slumped against it, his entire body heaving as he strained to keep drawing breaths. He slowly opened one eye and painfully looked to his subordinate, rasping. "Joh… hagggh…" He coughed blood; a horrible sound and a worse sight for his longtime friend. "Johnny…"

The crackling voice of Sir Geoffrey St. John came in over Harrison's earpiece. "Hellcats, this is St. John. There's too much armor out here, we can't stay. I'm pulling my men out, you've got to get out of there, now, while we can still cover for you! Do you read me?"

"Johnny…" Nathan's one open eye fixated on him. "Giving you… agh, giv…ng you the Hellcats… You're in charge…" The white cat's bloodied body shuddered in pain and he spit more blood. "Get them… h-home."

"No, Nathan. I'm not a leader. We have you, you're coming with us! Here, I'll carry you!" He reached out to touch the dying cat, but recoiled at the tortured sound he made when touched.

"No! Augh… Jus… just go!"

The sounds of battle just outside the hangar were growing desperate. Broadside's voice boomed out above it all. "Johnny! We got to go NOW!"

Jonathan considered his choices, if he ever really had any. His only option was the hardest for him. He fished the detonator out of his pocket and placed it in the old cat's trembling hand. "Take this, Nathan. It's the detonator for the bombs Rikta set. It's on a dead man's switch," He winced internally, regretting instantly his word choice. "… so… so if you hold it down, then it will go off when you let go. Give us time to get clear, and you can bring this whole hangar down on them."

Nathan nodded gently, closing his eye and putting his thumb over the button.

"Nathan… I… I wanted to…"

"No time…" Nathan rasped, his voice failing. "f-for good…"

"For goodbyes on the battlefield." Harrison nodded, his face sterner as he remembered his mentor's saying. "Right. Good luck, Nathan."

Nathan nodded a little, but didn't speak again. His breath sounded wet and heavy as he lay there, against the broken wreck of the vehicle. Johnny hesitated a moment more, then turned and ran.

He didn't make it far before the rumbling of the Eviscerator armor behind him made him stop and turn in surprise. The garbled voice of Chapman came out through the damaged speakers. "…ittle HairbaLL! I… … ill gOT auDio! …n't neEd to see yOu to cRUs… It was dragging itself toward him at a decent pace with its long, sturdy arms, following the sound of his now racing footsteps. The unarmed cat would be crushed flat if it could catch him.

"Get down!" Broadside shouted from the transport, which was in the final stages of getting ready to depart. He fired a burst of rounds from Kisha as Harrison ducked. They were a deterrent, but not debilitating, to the determined Overlander and his crippled war machine.

Harrison crawled for the transport as fast as he could, the crushing arms of the Eviscerator flailing behind him as Broadside's high-powered rounds pinged off the remnants of its protective armor. Harrison could see him shout something back at the cockpit of the _Cradle_, but it was drowned out by an explosion outside and the rumbling of the vehicle's engine.

Broadside sat his weapon down and outstretched his hand, shouting for Harrison, his normally loud voice drowned out by the much closer scraping doom that slowly closed in. Harrison could just make out the words by reading his lips. 'Run'. Without a thought, Johnny rose to his feet and broke into a full run for the transport.

The top hatch of the _Cradle _swung open, and its main gun, a heavy grenade launcher, rose into position. Cocoa donned a pair of goggles and climbed up through the hatch and into the turret controls, taking aim at the pursuing machine and unleashing a barrage of shots. The blasts rocked the machine back and forth as it thrashed and flailed to try to defend itself, still desperately advancing. The grenades slowed it just enough for Harrison to dive into the rear of the _Cradle_.

"Close the doors!" Harrison pulled his legs in just as the read doors hissed shut, blocking a punch from the robot outside that sent the vehicle skidding forward several feet. "Floor it!"

Rikta leapt over the pilot's seat and landed in it, putting the vehicle in drive and pressing down on the pedal. She'd seen just enough piloting to do it herself if her life depended on it. The vehicle's tires squealed loudly against the smooth floor of the hangar, but it went nowhere. At first, the Hellcats momentarily assumed that they were hung on debris, but then the violent rocking began.

"Has it got us!?" Jack struggled to get a view out of the small, dirty rear viewing slat. "No way! How can it be that strong!?"

The Eviscerator had both hands on the _Cradle, _one holding the rear wheels up, the other gripping the large barrel of the grenade turret and thrashing it back and forth to throw its aim.

Cocoa lined up one last, careful shot and fired just as the turret swung into the right position. The smoking grenade wedged into the fibrous connective materials in the robot's neck with a loud 'thunk'. The blast decapitated it and it released its grip on the transport as the vanquished robot rolled over, arms failing hopelessly. The _Cradle _took off the moment its rear tires touched the ground, leaving burning black streaks of rubber as it roared out of the hangar to freedom.

… … …

Nathan rested, still slumped where he had fallen, counting his increasingly ragged breaths. He watched the _Cradle's _escape from a cracked mirror he held loosely in one hand, and a faint smile briefly crossed his quivering lips as he saw them fade into the distant, dark outdoors. At least, he knew, it wasn't all for nothing. Too weak to crawl out and see them go with his own eyes, he let his mirror roll from his trembling fingers with a long, wet sigh. The detonator was still in his other hand, the button still pressed down. The excruciating pain had almost stopped, and in this, he knew he had only a few moments left. But there was still one thing the old cat wanted to see before his eyes grew too dim for it.

Slowly, Nathan fished a very old photograph from his shirt pocket with his free hand. It was blood-smeared, and the edge had been torn away, but he could still make out the smiling faces in the picture, and it brought a genuine one to his face as well.

The smell of perfume…

A name, a voice…

The song the band played all those years ago, the night he'd asked her…

Memories of the older woman in the picture played in his mind as his sight failed. It was funny, to him; he gave a ragged laugh at the realization that he wasn't in pain at all anymore. Just warm. The dying cat closed his blind eyes and rested the photo in his lap.

He wasn't afraid. He'd tried his best to do what he thought was right all of his long life; what was there to worry about now? He was ready. Slowly, his finger slid off the button of the detonator is his other hand, and he let it fall.

The first rumbles barely made it into his fading ears, distant, sequential. He took a deep breath, his pale, aged face lighting up with happiness as the explosions grew louder and closer. He contentedly whispered his last word as he released his final breath.

"Leina."

The heat washed over him, and Nathan Halloway was reunited with the wife, children, and grandchildren in the photograph as the flames burned it away, and the world around him fell down.

… … …

Cocoa came down from the turret, relieved until her subconscious headcount came up one short. "…where's Nathan?" When she saw Johnny ball up and put his head against his knees, she understood. "Oh, Gods… I'm sorry, Johnny. I didn't mean to…"

"It's my fault." He shuddered quietly, fighting back his feelings now that the adrenaline of his narrow escape was wearing off.

"No." Broadside stood over him, stooping down to help his grief-stricken friend up, but his large hand was batted away. "Is not your fault! You cannot bet life forever and win every time. Nathan knew that. He would not blame you."

"Shut up, Aleshan!" Harrison shouted into his knees, hiding his face from them. "Nathan was like a father to me! He taught me everything! I could have _saved _him!"

"That's not true, Johnny." Jack crouched down beside him. "That thing's gun must have weighed hundreds of pounds. There's no way you could have budged it at all…"

Harrison raised his head, glaring at the calico as hot tears began to stream down his face. "Well, I'll never know that for sure, now will I??"

Jack felt a soft hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at the owner. "Cocoa?"

"You and Broadside go take over for Rikta, before she crashes us. I'll take care of Johnny." She nodded down at him quietly. "We're all upset, I know. Let's just get home."

… … …

"Hang in there, sir, we'll have you out in a moment!" The Overlander recovery team's equipment hoisted the charred wreck of the Eviscerator armor out of the rubble of the hangar. "We're cutting the hatch lock off now. Don't move in there.

The chest of the robot opened and Colonel Chapman fell out as the interface wires snapped under his freed weight, his face mask shattered, his armor cracked and missing in places. He coughed and hacked as his subordinates helped him up. "Get him some water! Are you all right, sir?"

Chapman roughly tore the helmet off of his head with one hand and gasped a deep breath, coughing again. "Ugh… my shoulder's broken, I think." He looked back at the arm and torso that remained of his beloved project, still slightly dazed. "I think one of the actuators got pushed into the cockpit sphere and hit me when the ceiling came down. Need to… need to reinforce that when we go back to the drawing board…"

"You're scrapping the model entirely, sir?" A member of the crew tilted his head in curiosity as he delivered a bottle of water.

"Absolutely. It's a total failure. Totally botched the evacuation assist, and managed to be destroyed by a half-dozen Mobians? Worthless. I'm not totally sure if I even scored a kill!" Chapman poured the water over his head and wiped his face, wincing slightly. "Ugh. We'll make a new prototype from the ground up. We got communications up at all? Get high command on the horn, tell them the Mobians may have some of the files on their big project. I imagine the Senate's gonna be a circus come tomorrow…"


	14. Chapter 10

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter X: **__'The Lost and the Lonely'_

The world of pipes and drains beneath Mobotropolis was like a labyrinth. "Are we there yet?" Sonic looked back to his companions, running a gloved hand through his quills as he sighed, frustrated at having had to walk so slowly for so long.

"Why are ya'll askin' us for?" Bunnie asked from the back of the group. "We're all followin' you, sugah…"

"Oh, yeah! …I knew that. I know where we're going!"

Sally stopped, those behind her bunching up with her as she grabbed Sonic by the arm. "Hold on. You're leading, and you don't know where to go? Where was the last sign at, did anyone see one since we took that left turn?"

"Uhm, I am not one to be interrupting, my friends, but um…" Antoine pointed down into the river of murky water that flowed just beneath the walkway. "Ees it just me, or ees the level of the water going up?"

"He's right!" Rotor dipped a discarded stick through the grating. "It's a lot higher now. I checked when we first got on the walkways. I think all the rain up top is raising the sewer's water level, guys… if we don't find the city soon, we're gonna get wet."

"We can't swim in this." Sally added. "Maybe we should go back before it gets too bad?"

"I am liking this idea!" Antoine turned to lead the way back out.

"We're in so much trouble when we get back, Sal, we're only ever gonna have this one chance." Sonic expressed his choice in the matter. "Uncle Chuck's gonna ground me for life, so let's do what we can, while we can! That's what you always say, right?"

Rotor sighed. "We can't go back. We traveled up that ramp earlier, remember?"

"…you're right." The princess realized that everything behind them was now underwater. "We can't even make it back. We have to go forward, and fast! Come on everyone!"

"Oh… I am no longer liking this idea…"

"Fast?" Sonic grinned, taking the princess by the hand. "I can do fast! Everybody join hands and let's go!

The small group of children all joined hands as Sally passed Sonic her computer, Nicole; flashlight attachment on. "Be careful, okay? Let's stay on the railing."

Antoine expressed his deep disapproval of what he knew was to come. "Ohh… I am really not liking this ideaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh…" His screams of protest faded down the tunnel as Sonic rocketed through the sewers with them all in tow.

Minutes and miles later, the group came to a rough stop in front of a large, vault-like door. There wasn't a means to open it from the side they were on, but the sign above it clearly read 'Undercity".

Sonic casually brushed the accumulated dust off himself as his companions tried to regain their composure from the harrowing, high-speed ride he'd given them. "See! I told you guys I knew where we were going!" He banged against the metal door. "Hey! Anybody in there? Open up and let us in!"

A slat in the circular door slid open. The light on the other side was intense to the darkness-adjusted children. A dark figure moved in front of it for a moment, and then it slid shut again.

A loud metallic noise announced the door slowly swinging open as the light blinded them all. An old, male voice spoke to them as a pair of hands herded them inside one by one. "Harvester's sake! What in the Harrowin' are you kids doin' out in the sewers! Don't you know it's comin' a flood out there? That there door's gotta stay closed now or we'll all drown! Blasted kids, you run on to wherever you're s'posed to be and don't you go playin' in the sewers again!"

The verbal chastising ended with the sound of the door closing and sealing once again, and the five found themselves adjusting to the light of what seemed to be another world.

They were in what appeared to be a central chamber of the sewers; it was great and expansive, like some sort of underground warehouse. Everything was made of debris and discarded bits of rotten wood and rusted metal, from the ramps and walkways that wound around the support pillars and led to the darkest recesses of the ceiling, many stories up, to the makeshift tents and huts that lined the paths.

"This… isn't a city..." Rotor's eyes adjusted first and he looked down one of the ramps at the rows of decaying buildings, hearing the quiet murmur of the citizens within them and the creak and sway of the old metal that made up the paths and walkways.

"Daddy said that Undercity was a sad place, but he never said that it was like this." Sally peered over a rail at a shaft that rand deeper into the sewers. It was ringed every few feet with crumbling shacks, dangerously packed down the whole length. "There's so many people here… Daddy said this was a place for 'the lost and the lonely,' people who didn't have anywhere to go, so they stayed here… are all these people lost?"

They all walked together down one of the dark pathways, listening to the sounds of the underground city, the shouts and moans, the occasional scream, the quiet, defeated voices. Women and children, men young an old, Mobians of all subspecies, and even the odd Overlander watched them walk by as they huddled in their broken shacks, staring out at the children with half-lidded eyes.

"No shops." Sonic observed, the alien-ness of this place putting him in a more careful and thoughtful mood than he was known for. "Nobody's going anywhere, either."

"How do they go get food?" Antoine posed the obvious question.

Bunnie was the first to connect everything in her mind. "These folks ain't lost. They're poor."

"Why?" Sally looked aside at one tent that was closed up, with the word 'sick' painted on wood and hung over the flap. "Why doesn't Daddy give these people jobs… or at least food and medicine? Why is it like this? He knows about it but he…" Her countenance fell as the reality of the world came to her for the first time in her young life. A few hours before, she'd been playing in the rain; happy to have escaped from the safety and wealth of her life in the castle. Now she realized just how good a life she was running away from.

"Hey you!" A young voice shouted to the children and a feline boy, only barely older than them stepped into their path. "You lot are dressed like surfacers!" He pointed at them and a crowd of other children, similarly haggard and angry gathered in front and back of Sonic and his friends, picking up rocks and sticks. "That means ya got money, and food! You're gonna give it up or we're gonna take it, you hear?" A chorus of agreement rose from the other children around him.

Sally realized the sudden gravity of the situation and stepped forward in an attempt to be diplomatic. "Listen to me! We are here on important business from the surface. It's very urgent that you allow us through. If you please step aside, I will make sure that my father sends- OW!" A thrown rock glanced off her forehead and she fell to the ground in tears as the crowd of children attacked.

Sonic and Bunnie put up their fists, Rotor took up a stick and held it like a bat as he readied to have to fight. Antoine picked up a stick and held it out in a fencing pose. "I must warn you ruffians, I am a black-belting _mastair _of ze _marshmallow_ arts!

"Get 'em!" The cat boy lead the oncoming charge of children, but was suddenly plucked off the ground by a massive gray wolf, who held him several feet at arms length and shook him, roaring in a deep and rough voice.

"You little punks! How would you like it if I picked on you!" He threw the boy over his shoulder and with a few swipes over the heads of the other children around him, sent the entire diminutive mob scrambling into every shadow and side path they could. "You better run, you little sewer vermin! And you STAY outta my sight until you learn better! If you act like an animal, someone's gonna treat you like one!"

His sudden appearance and size disarmed Sonic and his friends; they were silent as he knelt down and helped Sally back to her feet. "Sorry about that. They're okay kids… they're just hungry. Are you okay, your highness?"

Sally dried her tears and nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm okay. Wh… how did you know who I-"

"Hush, now. You listen to me, okay? You take that Acorn signet ring off your finger, and you put it in your vest picket. That's not something you better ever show anyone down here. Those kids would have roughed you up a bit, but there are grown-ups here that would do a lot worse if they saw that ring."

"Okay…" Sally quietly did as she was told. "Thank you, Mister… uh…"

"Vincenze Richelieu's my name." The wolf smiled. "Pleased to meet you. Why don't you kids just call me Vince? What are you doing down here?"

"We're here to see someone important." Sonic answered him. "Why are you here, Vince?"

"Well, I'm sort of here to see someone important too." The wolf laughed a little, offering his hands. "Hey, you'll be safer coming with me if you gotta walk around down here. Who's this someone you're looking for? I might be able to take you to them, and then you better get back up top." He walked with the children, gentle despite his size and voice.

"Do you know a seer?" Sally asked, obviously pleased to have such a large and protective new friend for the adventure after her brush with real danger. "We're on an adventure to see him, he's supposed to know everything, and we need to ask him some important questions."

"A what? Seer?" Vince scratched the back of his head, thinking on it. "Someone who knows a lot of stuff… huh. You don't mean that crazy old Prophet guy, do ya? Aww, you don't wanna go see him, trust me. He's an odd one."

"Please?" Sally had the most pull with him, so she tried to convince him to take them along.

"Ehhh. Well…" Vince shrugged. "He's weird, but he ain't ever hurt anyone. I guess I can take you there, but I gotta leave after, and you gotta promise you'll go straight home, fast, after you see him."

"We promise!"

They walked together until they reached the large doors of a side room; part of the sewer itself, not one of the ramshackle hovels the residents made for themselves. "Here's where he stays, kids."

"Thank you, Vince." Sally curtsied gracefully. "Can I ask you one last thing? Why don't you dislike people from the surface, like those children did?"

"Huh. You're pretty clever." Vince looked aside, thinking. "You know, people here blame the surface for the way life is down here, and they're right, in some ways, but not all of us can blame someone for our troubles…" He turned to walk away. "Some of us… some of us, we bring bad things on ourselves. You kids be careful, now. I won't be here to help if you get in more trouble. I hope you find what you need." He pulled the door open as he walked away, and the children raced in before the heavy door could close behind them. It shut before they could properly thank their friend.

"Ahhh, welcome, children." A voice, eerie in its smooth confidence, called to them from the opposite end of the room. "I've been expecting you. Please, come in, come in." Seated on a large, mossy stone was robed figure, flanked by less exotic looking Mobians in hooded robes.

The figure who addressed them wore a purple, hooded robe frayed and worn at the edges, and rested his bandaged hands and chin on a thin walking stick His face wasn't visible, though his eyes caught the light from an unknown source and seemed to shine pure white beneath the folds of his hood. "Yes, I knew you would come here," He intercepted the most obvious first question. "Although, I confess I do not yet know as to why."

The children convened momentarily, and agreed that Sally, as the leader of the group, should do the talking. "Are you the seer we were sent to?"

The hooded figure raised his head off of the stick and leaned back, sitting up. "I am many things, as the need arises. Those who live here call me 'The Prophet'. As the leader of Undercity, I welcome you, your highness. I will endeavor to answer anything you ask of me."

"Thank you, sir." Sally didn't question how he'd known her identity; he was a seer, after all. "My father is very upset about a member of his council working with the Overlanders. We've come to ask you if you knew who it is."

"Hmmm." The Prophet seemed to think on it for a minute, ultimately nodding to them. "Yes. Yes, I do know. If you will do me one small favor, children, then I will see to it that the traitor is revealed to all."

"Of course!" This adventure was turning out to be surprisingly easy. "What do you want us to do?"

The Prophet conjured a puff of flame in his hand, which turned into three envelopes. He fanned them out and extended them to be taken. "I have here three messages, addressed to Dr. Julian Kintobor, Dr. Reinhardt Faustian, and Sir Charles Hedgehog. If you would be so kind as to deliver them for me, then the whole situation will resolve itself."

The princess stepped forward and took the envelopes, placing them securely in her inner vest pocket. "We'll do it. Thank you, sir."

"Allow me to speed your passage home." The Prophet clicked the tip of his staff against the stone floor. A soft rumbling preceded the appearance of a secret passage as the stone wall to the children's right slid into the floor. "This will take you though what we call the Drainary; a much faster passage to the surface than if you doubled back the way you came."

"Thank you again, sir! We'll deliver these messages for you right away!" Sally and her friends raced through the secret passage, waving goodbye as the stone wall slid back up into place.

One of the hooded figures flanking the seated Prophet lowered her hood, revealing an attractive vulpine face, marked on one side with inscrutable tattooed symbols. "Master?"

"Yes, my dear?" "The Prophet cast his glowing eyes aside to her.

"I do not question your wisdom, my lord," she began, "but what purpose does it serve giving those children messages to deliver, if you've sent them into the Drainary to die? There's no way out, and it will be flooding."

"How perceptive." The Prophet nodded to her. "There's something about that boy… the hedgehog. Something I don't like. If I leave him be, I feel he'll pose a problem for me when he's grown. This way, he's eliminated before he can be a threat. If they do survive, somehow, then they'll deliver my message. In either case, the end result serves my purposes."

The vixen bowed her head in reverence. "Your wisdom is infinite, as always, my lord. Praise Chaos."

… … …

The children, unaware of any treachery, made their way through the stone passageways into the Drainary itself, discussing their adventure and the mysterious Prophet and his messages. "How do you think he did that trick with the fire in his hand and the envelopes?" Sonic asked, glancing back at his companions as he took his turn leading the way.

"I don't know! Maybe it was magic!" Sally had seen actual magic before on rare occasion, and it looked much the same to her.

"Naw!" Bunnie, on the other hand, had not. "There ain't no such thing as magic, Sally. It was some kinda special trick."

"Well, his hand was all bandaged up." Rotor joked, "Maybe he messed the trick up a lot while he was practicing!" Being the only barefoot member of the group, however, his humor quickly left him when the water touched his foot. "Uh… guys? I think we may have a problem."

"Uh, _oui_, I think we are flooding again!"

"There must be water coming in from somewhere…" Sally pointed at the loose stonework all around them. "I think this part of the sewer is so old it's leaking. We might need to hurry it up again."

"Oh, please, Princess!" Antoine pleaded with her, taking her hand and begging. "Not again! I have not recovered from the last time!"

"Well… this place must head up if it heads out. I guess we'll be okay just speeding up a little. Sorry Sonic, I'd kind of like to stay on my own feet too." Sally gestured to her hedgehog friend to stand down, as he was already taking a sprinting position and motioning for them.

"Aww. Oh well. There's a ladder anyway." Sonic put one hand on the ladder and pointed up with the other. "Come on, guys. At least the water can't catch up to us if we go up."

A loud crack and splash echoed from far behind them. "Wow. I think some of the stone fell and broke!"

"Uhm, do ya'll hear runnin' water now?" Bunnie directed her large ears back down the tunnel after hearing the crashing sound. Seeing faint sparkles rumbling closer in the dark, she pointed down the tunnel. "Hey, Sally-girl, point the light over there. What's that?"

Sally turned and focused Nicole's beam down the tunnel as a wall of dirty gray water rounded a turn and raced forward at them.

"Whoa!" Sonic put a foot up on the ladder and gestured wildly. "Let's go! Let's go!" He helped the other four up the ladder one at a time, grabbing hold with his other hand just as the water hit his legs, threatening to pull him from the ladder as it flowed by.

"Sonic!" Sally shouted down from her position on the ladder, reaching down for him.

"I'm okay!" He pulled him self up to dry rungs and began climbing as the water level in the ladder's smaller shaft began to rise beneath him. "Keep going!"

At the top of the ladder was the start of another tunnel, this one was marked 'Drain Maintenance Tunnel A'. Sally remembered a 'B' on one of the walls in the passages below, so it could only mean they were close to the surface. "I think we're close, guys!" The fourth of the five to make it up the ladder, she helped Sonic up the last few rungs and into the tunnel.

Sonic looked down into the darkness he'd just escaped from. "Guys, it's still comin' up! I think it's gonna make it into the tunnel!

"Nooow I am thinking it ees okay for Sonic to pull us along…" Antoine cast a glance down the half-full ladder shaft.

"Ugh, I dunno if I can, Ant." Sonic sat down and rubbed his knee. "The water knocked my leg into the ladder when it hit me. I can't run on it yet, guys."

"Can you walk at least? We have to keep going." Rotor pulled him to his feet and let the injured hedgehog rest on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm good!" Sonic pushed himself away and hobbled lightly to the front of the group. "Come on, guys!"

Sally focused Nicole's beam down the tunnel. "I… think I can make out another ladder, way down there. Let's see where it goes!"

The group made their way down the tunnel, checking ahead for the ladder and behind for the progress of the water whenever Sally cast her light behind them.

The ladder they found would take them up once again, but this one was already wet with glistening drops trailing down the rungs. "Oh, no!" Sally shined her light up the ladder, water was indeed coming down, though much less fiercely than the torrent they'd just escaped from. "The water's above us, here! We should keep going!"

"The water behind us is clear of the ladder now!" Rotor pointed back, and when Sally shone her computer's light on the floor, they all saw the reflective surface of the dirty water creeping over the stone floor in a thin layer. "It's gonna start filling this tunnel up at this rate!"

"Excuse me, if I may?" Antoine held out his hands, full of the water trickling down the ladder. "Thees water ees MUCH clearer that the other water. I am thinking it is coming from the rain, and not the sewer, yes?"

"Yeah, he's right!" Bunnie pooled some of the drops in her hands as well. "It's not flooded up there, it's just the rain. There must be a drain up top!"

"Good thinking, Antoine!" Sally tested her grip on the slick ladder and stepped off, nodding. "We can do it! Hurry, everyone, keep heading up!"

Rotor was the first up; after he gave the all-clear from the top, Bunnie and Antoine followed. Sally stayed behind a moment, shining her light on Sonic. "Do you need help up the ladder?"

Sonic had been cradling his leg, but he snapped upright as soon as the light hit him. "Me? Nah, I'm fine! I'm right behind you!" He gave a thumbs-up and grinned. The water had already reached their ankles.

"All right, Rotor, catch!" Sally mustered all her strength and with a windup, threw Nicole up to the waiting walrus, who caught it in his large hands.

"Got it, Sally!" He quickly cast the light down onto the ladder for her.

With the water still rising, Sonic waited for the Princess to reach safety at the top, and then began his own ascent. The pain in his leg made it slow going, but when the ladder rumbled and another section of the drainery gave way below, the ladder shook loose of its moorings and nearly fell away entirely. Where solid stone blocks had been beneath him, now was a swirling blackness, whirling dark water in a deep pit, splashing and bubbling up at him as it now rose faster.

Rotor and Bunnie held the ladder as best they could; Sally and Antoine extended their arms down the ladder shaft to reach for their friend. "Come on Sonic, hurry!"

Sonic's shoes came off as the swirling water pulled down on his ankles; they were sucked under by the current and lost. "My shoes! I gotta get my shoes!" Sonic looked down at the water, already filling the shaft.

"No, Sonic, come on!" Sally shouted down to him, her arms outstretched, hands beckoning.

Sonic looked down at the water as it crossed another rung, and lifted his feet out of it, climbing again. His beloved running shoes were gone. "I hope Uncle Chuck can make a new pair…" He made it further up and stretched out an arm. Sally caught him just as the water finally pulled the ladder away. Rotor and Bunnie joined their two friends in pulling the soaked hedgehog up and to their new temporary safety.

With all the attention focused on Sonic, they'd never looked up. Sonic was the first to spot their possible salvation as he rolled onto his back. "Hey, look!" He pointed to the large metal grate on the roof of the short tunnel and the dim light that emanated from above it.

"It's a sewer drain!" Sally ran under it, shielding her eyes from the torrent of rain passing through it, and saw the stars through the stormy clouds above. "It's night time! No wonder I'm so hungry… We just have to get through here! The surface is right above us!"

Rotor was the tallest, and he jumped for the grate, waving his arms at it to no avail. "It's too high up, Sally! I can't reach it!" Another loud rumble permeated the tunnel. It would not be long before another wall of water came for them.

Sally looked back to the hole where the ladder had been. The flood water below was sloshing up to the top of it. Any water that came now would run right over them on its way to the next drain. "We're so close! What do we do?" The princess looked around for anything to help them climb, but there was nothing but discarded trash and broken bits of wood in the small tunnel. With no ideas left, she cupped he hands around her mouth and shouted through the sound of water to the streets above. Her friends followed suit, trying to make their calls louder than the rumbling storm in the night sky above.

"Help us! Someone please help us!"

"Can anyone hear me? Help!"

"We're gonna drown! Let us out!"

On the streets above them, a trio of city guards was on patrol, marching along the side of the street and trying to keep the rain off with their shields. "Why are we out in this weather, Captain? We can't even see to the end of the street in this rain!" The rear member of the group shouted a few feet ahead to his superior.

"He's right, Captain Cole, sir." The other guard nodded, shouting over the noise of the rain and thunder. "Even if she is around here, she'd get inside in this weather!"

"That's enough, both of you!" The hedgehog guardsman spun around to face them, lowering his shield and removing the helmet from his rain-soaked quills to make clear his expression and feelings on the matter. "This is the king's daughter we're talking about! The entire city guard is out looking for her, and no one, no one is stopping until the princess is found safe! Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Both guards saluted, giving up on the lost cause of protesting orders any further.

"Cole moved to replace his helmet, but at that moment, by the virtue of having it off his ears, he heard something. A voice, faint, but desperate. "Wait, do you two hear that? There's a voice!" He glanced back at his subordinates. "Don't look at me like that! Listen!"

"There's nothing, sir. I can't hear anything over this storm.

"Well take your helmets off!

The two soldiers grumbled at exposing themselves to the rain, but they did as ordered and listened. After a moment, one of them nodded his eyes widening. "Yeah… Yeah, I heard that, just barely! Sounded like kids. You don't think…"

"Me too!" The other cupped his hands to his vulpine ears and turned around. "Where's that coming from?"

"It's down here!" Cole knelt at the sewer grate they had stopped over and strained to hear more. "Hey!" He shouted down the drain. "I hear you! Are you down there?"

Sally shouted up, clinging to the wall as waist-deep water ran past her and her friends. "Yes! We hear you too! We're here! Help!"

"There's kids down there!" Cole scrambled off of the drain and grabbed it, pulling. He strained against the metal to no avail. "It's wedged in place! Don't just stand there, you two! Help me, use your spears!"

The two other guards tried to pry the drain out with their weapons, but it remained fixed in place. "I think it's cemented into the stone, sir! We'll have to chip it out!"

"Do it!" Cole took up his own spear and jabbed at the cement surrounding the drain alongside his companions. The soft clink of metal against stone resounded repeatedly as the worked at a frantic pace to the sounds of the children below yelling for them to hurry.

"All right!" Cole stripped the restrictive armor from his chest and arms and knelt beside the drain, grabbing it and pulling as hard as he could. With a reverberating crack, the last bits of cement broke free and he fell back with the drain in his hands. "Hang in there, we're coming! Grab my legs, you two!" The other guards lowered the teal hedgehog into the sewer, arms first. "Come on kids, grab my arms! We'll get you out one at a time!" With the light from the streets above coming in through the new hole, Sally closed Nicole and reached up into her rescuer's arms.

"We got ya!" Cole's fellow soldiers lifted him up and he brought the princess with him, setting her down safely on the sidewalk. "Okay, one of you take care of her, one of you lower me again!

"The other guardsman, a badger, wrapped his cloak around the shivering, soaked girl. "There you go, highness. It's all right."

Sally wrapped her arms around the badger knight's neck and hugged him tightly, terrified tears running down her face. She felt the crisp crinkle of the paper in her vest pocket, the messages were still safe and dry. "Oh, thank you! Please get my friends!"

"Yeah… It's okay." He hugged her back. "We're getting them."

Cole lowered again and pointed to Rotor and Bunnie, the two most having trouble keeping footing and handholds in the rushing water, now shoulder-high. "You first, then her! Hurry up, now!

A rogue swell of water splashed Sonic in the face and he reeled back in disgust, losing his footing and becoming caught in the flow. "Aahh!"

Antoine, a few feet farther down the tunnel had found a grip on a jutting line of pipe. He pulled himself up on the wall with it and grabbed the drifting hedgehog's hand as he went by. "Ah! I have got you, Sonic!" Emboldened by his unexpectedly skilled reaction, he quipped back at him. "Thees ees a change, _non_?"

For once, Sonic's friend had the literal upper hand. Not one to lose his senses even in danger, Sonic nodded a little. "This 'ees' a first, at least, but…" He paused for a second, still unwilling to admit anything, but this seemed like a good enough time to finally have something nice to say to the oft-mocked coyote "Thanks for the save, Ant."

A smile crept over the young coyote's face, and he nodded. "_Oui_, think no thinks of eet."

Rotor and Bunnie joined the princess on the surface one after the other, and soon shared the other knight's cloak. With only two left, Cole descended again.

"Okay, you two. I'm gonna get you both, don't worry." Cole looked at them in the dim ambience, his arms outstretched as the water flowed just beneath his quills. The loud gurgling in the tunnels far beyond told him that the flood had hit another drain, but he didn't have time to wait for the water level to lower. "Now just stay calm, kids. Can you get any closer to me?"

Antoine shook his head. "_Non! _If we should let go of the pipe, then the _watair _will…"

"Okay, okay, bad idea." The upside-down Cole waved his hands to dismiss the notion. "He's the plan, then. When I say so, you're gonna let go of that pipe, and you're gonna do all you can to stay above the water. I'll grab you both as you pass under me, okay?"

"Eeeeeeehh…" Antoine looked back and forth, nervous, checking Sonic for his opinion.

Sonic nodded to his friend, giving a small thumbs up with his free hand as he cling to the pipe with him. "He can do it, Ant. He's a knight!"

"Ohh… uhh… ehh… Okay?" Antoine's face lost its color beneath his wet fur.

"Good kid! On three!" Cole counted off for him. "One! Two! …Three!"

Antoine gave the most undignified scream of his young life as he and Sonic leapt into the surging water, paddling for control as they flowed straight to the waiting captain.

Cole caught them both handily as they passed beneath his waiting arms. "And I've got you! Hang on tight!"

Sally and the others cheered as Sonic and Antoine both emerged from the drain safe in the knight-captain's arms.

"Good job, sir." One of his subordinates, the fox, congratulated him, patting him on the shoulder as he caught his breath from the repeated rescues. "If you hadn't heard them when you did, we'd have walked right by."

"That's all of them, right?" Cole looked back, mentally counting the number of children before he was comfortable with returning the drain to the hole.

"Five missing people reports." The badger knight counted off on his hand. "Five kids." He returned a smile from the group.

"We did it!" Sonic quietly cheered for the five of them as the huddled together, their adventure over, complete with daring finale. "We still got the messages?"

"Right here." Sally showed them discreetly to her friends as if they were treasure. She tucked them under one of Sonic's gloves. "Give them to your Uncle, Sonic, he'll make sure the other two get delivered." While the three soldiers were congratulating each other and replacing the drain, she took the moment of privacy to congratulate her own intrepid band of adventurers. "Good job, all of you. I knew we could do it." The five children shared their secret handshake and a shaken, weary, but very excited smile. "We made it, but… oh boy I bet we're in trouble."

"Oh yeah." Rotor nodded, watching Cole and the other guards radio their superiors in preparation to take them all home. "Big time… I'm grounded for at least a week."

Bunnie sighed. "An' ahm grounded for a month…"

"A month? Ha!" Antoine laughed, dismayed at the idea. "I am to be grounded for at least a year, I'll bet!"

"Aw, man…" Sonic had totally forgotten the notion of punishment in the excitement and frights of the end of their adventure. He looked down at his shoeless feet. "Uncle Chuck's gonna ground me for the rest of my _life… _all ten minutes of it, after he finds out about this."

"I'll probably be confined to my room for a while, too…" Sally looked at each of her friends. "Since we won't see each other again for a while… I want to say this, guys. Thank you again. Thank you for coming with me, thank you for helping me, even knowing you'd be in so much trouble. You're my only friends, and I'm so grateful I have you. We're friends forever, still, right?" She held out her hand, palm down.

"Oui!" Antoine placed his hand on top of hers. "A year, it ees not so bad, for your sake, my princess!"

"Yeah!" Bunnie joined in the secret handshake, adding her hand to the stack. "Couldn't just up 'n let ya'll go it alone, Sugah."

"That's right!" Rotor joined. "It was for the good of the kingdom, and for you! How could we say no?"

"Yeah…" Sonic placed his hand at the top. With a nod, he smirked and added, "It sure was nice knowin' you guys."

"Oh, hush!" Sally giggled. The group shared the laugh, and broke the stack of hands by swinging their arms up and away. "See you all soon, guys."

Another troop of guards came down the street and joined Cole and his men after being flagged down. They removed their cloaks and wrapped the soaked children up individually. "All right kids. We're taking you home now, come on!"

Sally quietly thanked her friends again before the captain picked her up. Her heart sank a little in knowing how much trouble her friends were in because of her.

Each one of the children was lifted off the ground and into the secure arms of a city guard, and as their paths parted ways they showed their friend a thumbs-up. Sonic was the first. Rotor saw the gesture and did the same when he disappeared down a side street in the arms of one of the knights. Bunnie followed suit as well, when the remaining few reached her home.

Despite being a model student and child, being in serious trouble for the first time in his life, Antoine, too, repeated the gesture to her when they parted ways.

Despite having wanted to be anywhere else but the castle that morning, after all that she had seen, done, and learned in the real world, her quiet, dry, warm room was the only place the tired little girl now wished for. It was more, she now knew, than those she'd thought so much more free and fortunate than her would ever have.


	15. Chapter 11

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XI: **__'Overland'_

Morning's light crept over the metallic walls of the fortress-city of Overland; the only invader to ever penetrate the walls of the great city. Today was a red-letter-day for the Overlanders' capitol city, the monthly senatorial meeting was taking place today, and security was everywhere. Drab gray troopers watched the train station opposite the senate hall from behind their black visors, waiting for one of the most important speakers of the day to show.

General Bartholomew Clarion was one of the most powerful and influential members of the Overlanders' military, he'd fought for four decades in the war, but in recent years he'd had a change of heart and now sought to end it without further violence. As one of the most outspoken members of the increasingly powerful anti-war faction, he was expected today to deliver a powerful call for a ceasefire between the two races, in front of the entire voting senate.

As the general stepped out of the last train car and onto the station platform with his aides, he was greeted by a large security force. The force captain offered him a crisp salute. "Sir! It's an honor to have you here."

The general returned his salute. "At ease. Quite a lot of security in the city these days, I see. Has it truly gotten so dangerous here in Overland?"

"Oh yes, sir." The security officer's voice crackled low through his mouthpiece as he returned to his men. "Present… arms!" The entire contingent brandished their rifles with a flashy maneuver.

"Very good, yes. I can see safety is a paramount issue for the senatorial meeting…" A loud metallic crunch from the train behind him made the general turn back. The train was departing, having decoupled the last car and left it behind. "What in the world?" He turned back to see one of his aides pale with terror as he stared at the security team. "What's going-"

"Open fire!" The security captain called out the order, and the general and his staff were cut down in a massive hail of bullets before he could finish his sentence. With another order from the captain, the 'security force' dispersed in every direction, fleeing the scene before the real security forces could arrive.

Meanwhile, in the senate building, high above the murder scene in the palatial suite of the Central Speaker, Speaker Colin Kintobor watched the aftermath with quiet amusement from his windows. As the supreme leader of the Overlanders, assassinations were a way of life for him. He'd killed more political opponents and stumbling blocks than he could remember; not the least of which being Dr. Julian Kintobor, his uncle and Central Speaker before him. The rumors that Julian was alive and aiding the Mobians were a ridiculous notion to him, no one could have survived the bomb he'd set in the very suite he now stood in all those years ago. "My dear General, there can be no true peace without total victory beforehand. What a pity that you'd forgotten that. You served me well, but I simply cannot allow dissent at this crucial stage in the war."

Many would suspect him, of course, but assassination was an accepted practice in Overlander politics. Punishments were reserved only for those sloppy or foolish enough to be caught.

"Sir!" A soldier stood in the doorway as Colin turned around. "There's been a disturbance, sir! Please allow us to escort you down to the secure senate room right away."

"A disturbance?" Colin glanced out the window again. "Was that the commotion in the streets I heard just now?"

"Yes sir! General Clarion has been murdered! We have reason to believe the rogue agents responsible may target you as well. Please come along, Sir."

"Oh my. How dreadful." Colin followed the soldiers to the elevator that led down to the secure senate room, presumably, the entire senate staff was in the process of being moved into the reinforced version of their usual meeting place as well. When the doors of the elevator opened, his suspicions were confirmed. The secure senate room was packed with the Overlander elites and their staff, talking, gesturing, and ranting as they always did before order was called. One ambitious senator had even commandeered the podium. "Make no mistake! This was not the Mobians' doing; the initial report tells us the terrorists were Overlanders disguised as security officers! It was treachery, and well executed at that!"

"'Well executed' is perhaps a poor choice of words, Senator Casric." Colin quipped as he entered, recovering his podium from the senator. "Considering the nature of the event. Now, let's have some order, shall we?" He tapped his microphone with a fingertip. "As most of you must already know, General Clarion was killed by a rogue group of terrorists not ten minutes ago. In spite of this vile act, we will go on with our emergency meeting."

"Emergency? What is the nature of calling us here, Central Speaker?" One of the robed senators took their seat in the many-tiered rows of booth-like desks available. "This meeting was supposed to be a regular monthly meeting, but in light of all this…"

"There were some…" Colin ran a hand through his short red hair, searching for the politically suitable word. "Unfortunate developments last night, concerning some of our most important wartime projects. My reports tell me that outpost PA-44 was attacked by a small, covert group of Mobian operatives. They caused extensive damage to the base and escaped with partial files from our weapons development program. As you may know, PA-44 contains what we call Lab 13; our top secret weapons division. And it is because of one particular weapon that I have pushed this meeting ahead of schedule. My associate, Commander Gerin will explain in detail. Commander?"

The commander, a tall, bald man with a prodigious scar running across one side of his face and a patch over that side's eye, took to the podium and extended a pointer to the projection screen behind him.

"Approximately twenty years ago, the army's R&D division began a project under then-Speaker Julian Kintobor codenamed Think Tank. The goal of Think Tank was to develop and produce a weapon that was universally lethal to all Mobian subspecies, but harmless to Overlanders." A series of slides went by documenting the history and progress of the project. "Eventually, it was settled on to utilize an electromagnetic pulse geared to target only Mobians."

"How is that possible?" A senator called out from the seated rows. "An EMP should only affect machines, should it not?"

"An astute observation, Senator…" Gerin squinted with his only eye to read the name plate on the desk. "Errr, well, Senator. It is true that certain EMPs will disrupt the workings of electronics, but bear in mind that we are all machines, merely a different kind. Our bodies, particularly our brains, require a very delicate electrical current to be maintained. Our project outlived Speaker Julian Kintobor, and in recent years, we developed a working emitter that can effectively kill. Test subjects experienced violent seizures, followed by massive aneurysm, resulting in death within a minute of exposure. Though there are a variety of Mobian subspecies, the emitter can be retuned to target creatures of specific brain patterns, and a catch-all frequency is believed to be possible that would work on any Mobian."

"How do you know this?" One senator dropped his cane and rose to his feet, slamming his hands down on his desk. He was Senator Odwin, one of the more powerful figures in the senate, a strong advocate of peace, and with the death of General Clarion, the new de facto leader of the anti-war faction. He had narrowly lost to Colin in the election for Central speaker by such a margin that treachery was suspected for years after. "What 'test subjects' did you use?"

Colin glared at the senator, angry to be caught in any subtle implication of wrongdoing. "Animals, Senator Odwin. Nothing more. Just animals." He smiled.

"I'm sure…" Odwin sank slowly into his seat, glaring.

"Er, the main problem encountered with our emitter was that the amount of power generated was quite large," Gerin continued. "Despite how 'weak' the actual pulse emitted is, the amount of energy needed to shape, direct, and finely tune it to the right brain patterns makes use as a personal weapon prohibitive and costly." Graphs and charts slid by on the projector. "If we implemented it as a vehicular weapon, every vehicle in production would have to be refitted with an additional, extremely volatile reactor to power the emitters. So, the logical conclusion the Central Speaker reached was that we should simply build one emitter. One very large emitter." The projector showed the pans for a tower, with a single, massive emitter sphere mounted in the top of the superstructure.

Colin took back the stand. "This tower is designed to be a support structure for the emitter itself, as well as protection. It will charge the planet's ionosphere to a certain limit and then direct the pulse outward. This lethal EM pulse will reflect off the ionosphere and strike simultaneously everywhere on Mobius, effectively short-circuiting the brains of every Mobian, anywhere in the world. The war will be won with the flip of a switch."

A wave of reactions swept through the chamber; some senators applauded, others exclaimed outrage, but the loudest call of all came from Senator Odwin, who shouted "Genocide!"

"Excuse me, Senator?" Colin looked up at the senator's seat in the upper rows.

"You would wipe out an entire species, an entire culture because they inconvenience you?" Odwin pointed his cane down at the speaker's podium.

"Inconvenience? Tell me, Senator, do you find our foes only an inconvenience? Why don't we ask those among our soldiers and citizens who have lost limbs, loves, or lives to the Mobians if they feel 'inconvenienced?'"

Odwin recognized that popular support would not be his. He sat back down, silent. His battle had to be fought elsewhere, in another way.

"I have a question, Mr. Speaker, sir." Another senator raised their voice. "Divided opinions aside, how can one single large emitter ever be powered, if it proved too difficult to power many smaller ones?"

"I believe I am authorized to answer that." Gerin received a nod from Colin, and began a new presentation, this time displaying a map. "What I am about to show you was classified until today. Regardless of the declassification, what you are about to see should remain state secrets. Some of you may recall the expedition to the Eastern Continents, roughly a decade ago. What we did not release, however, were the findings." He pointed to a desert area of the map. "In this area, known as the Sandsea, we found numerous remnants of an ancient proto-Mobian civilization. Among these ruins was one remarkably well-preserved structure that was partly buried by the desert." The display changed to a sand-choked stone entryway, flanked by stone colossi; Mobian figures holding out large ornate bowls. Fires once likely burned in the bowls, but now they were full of grit and sand. "This structure was designated RT-1, the first and only structure of this kind found during the expedition."

"What was the purpose of this structure?" Another senator in the crowd asked.

Gerin smiled, obviously pleased with the chance to explain. He adjusted his eye patch for comfort as he continued. "We're not completely sure, actually. We believe it could've had some sort of religious purpose; some of the walls had writing and pictures, which we were able to partially decipher. The symbols identified some sort of 'Death God' or 'Underworld God', and the structure could have been built to honor this being. In my personal opinion, and I'm a soldier rather than an archeologist, mind you, it's a war monument of some sort. I was present on this expedition, and one particular painting on a wall stood out to me." He displayed a number of images of the expedition inside the structure and the markings and pictures on the walls within. "A single figure, Mobian, standing against an army of opposing, similar figures, also Mobian. Then, after that there was another image of all the figures lying down, probably dead. I believe this 'Death God' was a nickname or honorific for some ancient hero who died upon defeating a much larger force, probably in some sort-"

Colin cleared his throat loudly, and Gerin's train of thought was slowed to a stop as he was forced back on track. "Ahh, but anyway, the importance of RT-1 was in an object we found there; an ancient device we codenamed the 'Artifact'.

The projection changed to an image of a large, dark gemstone, resting in the hands of a statue in the old structure, followed by a sequence of shots of it undergoing various lab tests back in Overland. "The artifact resembles a cut gemstone, roughly a foot across; a highly improbable size. In fact, we project that the raw, flawless emerald it would be cut from is of a size that cannot naturally occur on Mobius. We're unsure who cut the stone, or exactly how they did it, as the emerald has proven indestructible to anything we possess."

"Then it's not an emerald!" One of the senators shouted from the seating.

"Fair enough. It's a device, more properly." Gerin continued. "We believe it was used as a power source. Within the crystal matrix of the Artifact, there is an unimaginable amount of pure energy stored. It has so far proven unlimited; we've drained power from it for years, and it presently powers the entire research facility that houses it, yet it still shows the same power levels it did when we first tested it. We don't know how it works, or why it works, but we do understand enough that we know it will work, as a power source for the large EM emitter we've designed. We've dubbed the tower structure and emitter the Mass Extinction Drive, and it is this topic that the senate will be voting on today, I believe."

"Indeed. Thank you for your presentation, Commander." Colin took the stand again, smoothing his short red hair back. "We have already chosen a suitable site, and laid the foundation for the tower superstructure. Today, I motion for the vote to proceed with the project. With a senatorial go-ahead, the Mass Extinction Drive could be ready to fire within six months, maybe even less. Bear in mind, my colleagues, today you are voting for the future prosperity and peace of our very civilization! I trust you will make the correct choice. If you have any further questions about the plan, please consult the papers you've been given at the start of the meeting, they outline much of the plans in detail."

Odwin rose from his seat, but not before subtly slipping his set of printouts on the Mass Extinction Drive into a folder and tucking it under his arm. There was no point in staying for the vote; it was a foregone conclusion that Colin would have his way. A handful of senators followed him out of the meeting, all members of the anti-war faction.

"Sir?" one of the younger senators caught up to him at the elevator. "As dreadful as the idea is, would this plan end the war? Isn't that what we want?"

"The end doesn't justify such grisly means." Odwin pressed the elevator button and the doors closed, leaving the small group in privacy. "We're so close… both sides are almost depleted completely; Mobian and Overlander alike. If we could just hold a bit longer, real peace talks would become the only viable option for either side. Colin's been manipulating this war for years, keeping it going, so he could accumulate more power. But now, he's realized it's gone on too long. If it ends in peace talks, in diplomacy…"

"Then he won't retain all his 'emergency' powers." Another of the anti-war senators agreed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "You're right. It makes sense, Colin can't afford a draw. He needs that decisive victory, and the political clout it would give him, to stay in power." After a thoughtful pause, the senator shook his head slowly, realizing what they'd ultimately done. "We've all voted to give him so many new powers… but what can we possibly do now? The speaker is absolutely untouchable.

Odwin waited for the doors to open to the ground floor lobby, casting anxious glances at the folder of papers he carried. "I have a plan. But it should just be me, none of you must get involved in this; it's going to be dangerous."

"What will you do, Odwin?"

"Colin's device will tip the scales of war too far in his favor." Odwin hailed an automated transport the moment they were outside. "I'm going to balance them back out." He slid into the seat slowly and sat his papers down beside him. "Don't ask me how, my friends. It's better if you have no knowledge of that; when Colin finds out what I've done the consequences will be… drastic." The door closed before the other senators could offer any more comments, and Odwin was fast on his way to the outskirts of the city.


	16. Chapter 11 Sidestory

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I **_

_**Chapter XI Sidestory**___

"_The Promise"_

The Hellcats had come home to Mobotropolis in the rain, and it was in the rain that afternoon that they paid their respects to their former leader and friend. Even Rikta had put on a real uniform for the funeral. Her 'pet' grenade was absent for the first time since Harrison had met her. The drizzling gray skies cast a monochrome pallet over the Memorial Garden, the largest military cemetery in the city.

"I have never seen so many suits in my life, Jack." Harrison had made leader in the worst way possible, and now he confided his feelings into his comrade as they looked at congregation of mourners. In what seemed to be a who's who of military V.I.P.s; overwhelmingly, they were old Mobians in full dress uniforms, with rank insignias and medals Harrison couldn't fathom adorning his own dark uniform.

"Nathan always said he had a lot of friends in high places, whenever it was time to call in a favor." Jack bowed his head. "I never imagined he had quite so many, and in places quite so high… It makes me feel a bit insignificant."

"You." Broadside placed a mighty hand on the short calico's shoulder. "Shut up now. Important old people, they were Nathan's friends." The massive tiger gestured to the crowd, and then squeezed down on Jack's shoulder for emphasis. "Hellcats, we were Nathan's family. Not insignificant." His attention turned to Harrison, who also received a hand on the shoulder. "How do you hold up, Johnny? All this, it is twice as hard on you."

"I'm okay, big guy. Thanks, though."

The tiger pushed him towards the other mourners a little. "You go shake hands and talk to old guys. Is important, more important than you think. I take care of things over here.

The motion was enough to attract the attention of one member of the crowd, a sort Persian cat in a dark blue uniform with matching beret; he was heavy with decoration and age. His massive eyebrows curled as he saluted and then crushed Harrison's hand in a firm handshake, greeting him in grizzled old voice. "Harrison, right? General Berttran, Second Cavalry. You got you some mighty big shoes to fill, boy. Mighty big."

"Yes, sir." Harrison new better than to say anything else.

"Nathan was a good man, good soldier. He was a good friend, too." Berttran looked off into something in the distance; perhaps the past. "Fought in a lot of battles together we did. Had our share of the war, you could say. I was in the Hellcats, the original ones, mind you, back when they first formed, fifty years ago. Nathan was the one they put in charge of it, and he and I were as young as you back then. He didn't get no say in it, just put in charge of the team and shipped off to makers-know-where on missions we had no business comin' back from. Do you know how he felt about it?"

"No, sir."

"He was scared, boy! Nervous! He didn't know if he was good enough to do that kind of work. He thought he'd never be as good as the best soldier he knew. I reckon that's how you feel, innit?

"Yes, sir."

"Well then, let me ask you this." Berttran arched a fluffy eyebrow. "How many people you reckon were in line ahead of you for your new position?"

"I have no idea, sir"

"A lot, boy! An awful, awful lot. But they ain't in charge of the Hellcats, now are they? I don't know you, boy, but I did know Nathan. So let me tell you somethin' and you remember it, now. Nathan picked you, out of people more qualified, more experienced, more of anything you got, but he picked you. That tells me he thought more of you than anyone in this whole world. And he believed that you were the best cat for the job." The Persian nodded sagely. "Nathan was the finest soldier I ever fought beside, and if he picked you, then that's more than good enough for me. I believe in you, boy, and if you ever need advice, or help, you come see me and I'll sort you out."

Harrison was taken aback at this. He'd expected a lecture, not a pledge. "I… thank you, sir."

"Carry on." Berttran gave him a crisp salute before departing. It was the same as he spoke to more and more of the Mobians who had come to see their old friend off. More and more he heard about his departed friend and mentor, and the more he heard, the more he realized what it all meant for him.

There was one figure removed from the mourners, a tall tiger in a fancy suit and sunglasses. He shielded a match from the rain as he lit up a cigarette, ever silent and solemn. Unlike the others present, this was a figure Harrison knew.

"General Katzenov, sir." Harrison offered a salute. "It's good of you to come; I know you are very busy."

"Nathan was a friend, Harrison." Nikolai offered his usual tone and demeanor. If he was emotionally moved at all, it was hard to tell. "He did much for my predecessors, and much for me. I would not miss the funeral of my best agent."

"Did… uh, did Nathan have any family, sir? Were they able to attend? I'd like to offer my condolences to them." Nathan had never spoke to Harrison about a family, but he'd always found it hard it imagine him without anyone. More than anything, he hated the thought of his former commander leaving the world without any children or grandchildren to remember him.

"Nathan had a wife, Leina, two daughters, and several grandchildren. All of them died in the massacre at Kith Alunel decades ago." The general's tone was matter-of-fact and to the point, as always.

"…oh. I… I never knew that. He never told me."

"That's not surprising; Nathan blamed himself for a lot of things that weren't entirely his fault, he fought a war of his own inside himself, every day." Katzenov took a thoughtful puff of his cigarette, the smoke wisped its way up through the droplets of falling rain. "He did, however, confide in me not long ago that he had a living son. He asked me to give him something at his funeral, if possible."

This raised Harrison's hopes, but begged another question. "Was his son able to make it to the funeral?"

General Katzenov cracked a faint smile; the first time Harrison had ever seen him do so. His eyes caught a glint of light behind his sunglasses. "Yes, Jonathan. He is in attendance." He offered a handshake to the young black cat and Harrison accepted.

When the handshake ended, Johnny found that the general had slipped something into his hand. When he held it up to the dim light of the cloudy sky, he saw what. It was a medal, the symbol of a star and wreath, with an inscription on the back. It was the _Promise Star_, one of the highest honors a Mobian soldier could earn. They were given, always posthumously, to those who displayed a career of incredible merit and bravery. The back inscription read '_In promise that those who die do it not in vain, that there will be a tomorrow, that the darkest night sees the brightest stars.' _The name on the front read '_Nathan Halloway'_.

"General?" Jonathan glanced up, but the tiger was gone. The opening chords of the National Anthem of Mobius drew his attention suddenly to the coffin, where the funeral was coming to a close.

The chaplain delivered his lines at the head of the empty coffin as it was lowered and the flag removed.

"As the creators brought you forth from Mobius, so too do they return you to the land of your birth. Such is the cycle of being that binds us all, for we, too sprang from this land, and one day, we, too shall return.

Be not afraid on your journey, for a thousand brothers and sisters have gone before, in life, in death, and beyond, to the Great Harvest. Be reunited now with the land, with those long passed, and with those who remain."

"Present arms!" Broadside bellowed out from beside the grave, drawing his ceremonial sword and crossing it with the blade of the soldier on the other side; two more pairs of soldiers did the same, down the length of the coffin before sheathing them again.

Jonathan watched the final proceedings for his longtime friend, and wiped his eyes, his attention returning to the medal. As the anthem played on, he turned his gaze inward in introspection, nodding silently. "You kept your promise, Nathan." He tucked the _Promise Star _into his uniform, casting a glance up at the rainy skies.

"Now, I promise, too."


	17. Chapter 12

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter****XII:**'The Army of Tomorrow'_

"Wake up, Sonic."

"Hmm?" Sonic Maurice Hedgehog sleepily rolled over in his bed as the sun's rays and the voice of his uncle tried to force him from his rest.

"Sonic, wake up. You and I have a great deal we need to discuss, this morning..."

His uncle's voice finally stirred him from sleep, and Sonic stretched among the sheets and pillows. When had he made it to bed? He didn't remember much after the end of his adventures in the sewers; he must have fallen asleep in the arms of the guard who'd taken him home; he'd been exhausted from his near-death adventures. "I'm awake..." He slurred, lazily, his eyelids slowly fluttering half-open. "Am I in trouble?"

This elicited a short, irritated laugh from his uncle. "Oh yes. Very much so. Would you care to start by telling me what you were doing with the princess and three other children in the sewers?"

Sonic knew his uncle well enough to know when he was mad. Charles would never raise his voice, but he took on a certain, tensed tone when he was angry enough. His uncle was furious, indeed, and trying to sneak around the truth with him would have dire consequences this time, he knew. Best to be out with it and get whatever punishment he had coming, as fast as possible. "We... went to Undercity."

Charles sat in a bedside chair, his frustration obvious, but his tone ever-calm. "After I told you never to. How many times have I told you to stay out of the underground, Sonic? Do you ever listen to me, boy? You know it's dangerous, and yet you put your friends in danger, too. For what? A game? Some made up adventure?"

"No!" It came as a shout, but Sonic quickly toned back the volume of his voice before he made things worse. "We were trying to help out! I brought a message for you..." He remembered the urgency and importance of what they'd all done the night before, and fished a trio of envelopes from his filthy jacket, discarded on the floor. "...here.

"What... is this?" Charles opened the letter addressed to him, glancing over the contents of the message within. A look of worried puzzlement slowly crept over his face. "Where did you get this, Sonic? Who gave this message to you?"

"A man in Undercity. He was some kind of magician, I think... what's it say?"

"Never mind that." Charles tucked the letters in his coat, his brow furrowed in obvious agitation at the contents. "I'll see to it that Julian and Dr. Faustian get theirs. What concerns me the most right now is what you've done. The king is in an uproar over his daughter's adventure with you, you should know."

"Is Sally in trouble?" Sonic's shoulders slumped with the thought of her having to be punished for something he'd agreed with her doing.

"I have no doubt she is. I don't think you or any of your friends will be playing together again for a long time. As for you, I haven't even thought of your punishment, yet. I was more concerned with getting you cleaned up a bit and put to bed. Go take another bath and find some clean clothes while I figure out what to do with you, boy."

"Yes, Sir." Sonic shuffled past his guardian in defeat, en route to his bathroom.

"Wait a moment... where are your shoes?" Charles distinctly remembered that the boy's all-important shoes were not returned alongside him.

"Dad's shoes...!" The loss of his beloved frictionless sneakers had been a blow to him the night before, but only in the light of day did he recognize the importance of it. "I lost them in the sewer... they're gone for good." He stopped in the doorway, thinking back. "Dad made those for me."

"They were one of your only mementos of him, weren't they?" Charles' expression softened, and he opened his arms; an invitation Sonic gladly accepted, running back to him and hugging his uncle tightly. "Then perhaps I don't need to punish you after all. I think you've punished yourself, my boy."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Chuck!" Sonic choked back on tears. "I miss dad..."

Charles put his arms over the crying boy, and hugged him tightly, resting his chin atop the cool blue hedgehog's head. "I know you do, my dear boy. I miss him too, every day."

"Am... am I like him?" Sonic tearfully nuzzled his foster parent.

This gave a faint smile to the old hedgehog. "Oh yes... yes indeed you are. Too much like him sometimes. I still remember the day your parents died..." His smile melted away. "Testing that... damn fool racing craft he built..." His eyes watered, and he raised an arm from his surrogate son so that he could remove his spectacles. "I'm sorry, my boy. I don't set so many rules because I want to stifle you. No, you've every right to be a child, but I promised your father... I promised Jules that I'd take care of you. When you went missing yesterday, I was afraid you'd..."

"It's okay, Uncle Chuck." Sonic looked up from their hug and wiped a tear from his uncle's face. "Don't cry, I understand."

Charles picked the child up and hugged him again, a smile returning to his face. "Your parents would be so proud of you if they were here today, Sonic. You make your fair share of mistakes, but you're growing into a fine young man. I want you to take what I have in my vest pocket, all right? You can keep it.

Never one to turn down a gift, Sonic clung to his uncle as he fished a gold pocket watch from his vest. "It's dad's watch... I saw it in your picture of him."

"Yes. Your father hated ever being late, so I got him a pocket watch, once. It may not keep good time anymore, but that's hardly why I kept it. Don't be too sad about your shoes, Sonic. In the end, they're just a thing; it's the memories we attach to things that make them important. You may have lost a memento, but that doesn't mean you lost the memories."

"Do you think I'll be able to run without my shoes?"

"Sadly, no." Sir Charles set Sonic back down, stroking back his quills with a gentle hand. "But I can make you a new pair of shoes. I understand my brother's design, and I can recreate the effects, but I am dreadfully busy and it will take some time, Sonic. Until then, you're going to have to take it slow, okay?" He coaxed a reluctant nod out of his surrogate child and sent him off to the bath. "Make no mistake, though, you're grounded! But you can't just sit around the house all day, so I'll let you come with me if you're quick about your bath. Today is the day I unveil my invention for the council."

… … …

"Today is the day." 'Doctor' Alicia Metis stared into the swirling vortex of blue energy that pulsed on the large platform in front of her. Her experiments had taken her so far, the climax of her life's work was before her, now. The badger woman's long silver hair blew behind her in the strong currents of excited air the swirling, shimmering portal generated. Her white coat threatened to pull itself free from her as she struggled to put pen to billowing notebook. 'Most stable portal yet. Shaping the initial energy pulse is key. Destination unknown, but believe to be controllable with further experimentation.' The portal abruptly collapsed with a loud 'pop' as she finished writing, dissipating into nothingness.

Metis smiled from behind her protective glasses. She'd finally created a portal that survived longer than sixty seconds. With that milestone, she was prepared to reveal her secret project to her king and peers. That, however, had to wait another day. Today, she was scheduled to view the unveiling of the inventions of other, lesser members of the Scientific Council. Her day would come soon enough, and the king; no, the world, would understand her brilliance.

… … …

The Forum Gardens stood peaceful and pleasant that warm morning, as members of the council and numerous government officials filed in from all around the city. As per the often-transparent nature of any unveiling that was good for morale, numerous civilians also found places to sit and watch the proceedings.

Center-stage in the forum stood Dr. Reinhardt Faustian, proudly primping his bright red suit beside an equally red velvet sheet. A tall humanoid shape hid beneath it, awaiting presentation. Faustian shook the occasional hand and bowed dramatically here and there, awaiting the arrival of the king so his presentation and demonstration could commence.

Sonic and his uncle arrived only moments before King Maximilian Acorn, who took his place in his ornate podium, ringed by his royal guard. He smoothed his robes proudly and began delivering a well-rehearsed speech.

"My people, my friends, and my esteemed colleagues of the Scientific Council! Today is a momentous day for all of Mobiankind; today we bear witness to the much-awaited unveiling of not one, but two magnificent inventions! These triumphs of Mobian ingenuity promise us a better future, and better lives for all! Join me in applause, now, as I introduce the brilliant Dr. Reinhardt Faustian, and his remarkable creation!"

There was thunderous applause throughout the Forum Gardens as Faustian bowed again and raised his microphone. "Danke, danke, mein Liege! As my colleagues are aware, I have dedicated the last few years of my life to ze creation and perfection of a device not before seen in our world's history! With ze aid of my colleagues expertise in programming and robotics, I have brought to life ze first true, fully autonomous combat robot! Indeed, zis invention will forever change ze way Mobius fights her wars! Join me as I reveal ze Synthetic WArrior-Type Robot prototype! Ladies and gentlemen! I give you ze army of tomorrow! I give you... ze SWATbot!"

The sheet whipped away, revealing a tall, mechanical figure, painted a bright and hopeful white. The brilliant yellow insignia of a stylized swan adorned it's chest and the face area of its large, domed head. A mix of gasps and cheers emanated from the assemblage of onlookers as the robot's single camera 'eye' came to life with a bright red glow, sliding back and forth in its tracking to take in the surroundings.

Faustian gestured to his invention. "Allow me to introduce Cygnus-1, ze first of his kind, but far from ze last! Please, Cygnus-1, greet ze crowd."

"I am SWATbot designate Cygnus-1. I greet the Mobian people, the Scientific Council, and his Royal Majesty, King Maximilian Acorn." The synthetic voice was as calm and lifeless as expected, with only the faintest spark of inflection and personality behind it. It delivered a crisp salute and returned to its ready position.

"Perhaps a volunteer from ze crowd would like to hold a conversation with Cygnus-1 to demonstrate his wide rage of skills? Anyone?"

"Me! Me!" Sonic, quite taken with the notion of a robot soldier jumped out of the crowd before his uncle could protest.

"Mmm? Ah, you! Zis is unexpected..." Faustian was more than surprised to see the hedgehog child alive. "Err... but not unwelcome, of course! Please, come, come."

Sonic fearlessly stood before the robot twice his size and waved. "Hi! I'm Sonic!"

Cygnus-1 knelt down to be on eye level with the boy, offering his hand. "Hello, Sonic. I am Cygnus-1. It is a pleasure to meet you.

"But you're a robot. You don't have feelings, do you?" Sonic tilted his head and shook hands with the robot. Was there more to it than he'd assumed?

"While that is correct, and an astute observation, what I said is not untrue. While I feel no actual pleasure in meeting you, I am nonetheless programmed to greet all Mobians warmly and respond as if I were in a pleasant mood. Therefore, it is a pleasure to meet you, even if I do not feel it, as my words and actions will be as though I do."

"O...kaaay." He wasn't unpleasant, but Cygnus-1's vocabulary and 'personality' were a bit beyond Sonic. "So... you're a soldier?"

"Affirmative. That is another correct statement." Cygnus-1 nodded; a curious and awkward motion, considering its large, domed head. Specifically, I was made to command and direct large numbers of other SWATbots, much like a general. I am not incapable of combat, however. What about you, Sonic? What do you want to be when you are an adult?"

"I wanna be a soldier, too!"

"That is an admirable, but dangerous profession. I regret to inform you that it is likely you will not be able to be a soldier, due to the likelihood that SWATbots like me will soon replace all Mobian soldiers."

"Why?"

"Because soldiering is very dangerous." It answered matter-of-factually, "Machines such as I cannot feel injury, or die. We do not need food, or rest, or protective equipment, and so machines make more efficient and safer soldiers than organic beings such as yourself."

"Uhh.." Sonic scratched the back of his head, rustling his quills as he tried to parse the robot's speech. "Well, I guess that's okay..."

Cygnus-1 demonstrated its intelligence further by changing the subject as it became difficult for the conversational partner. "If you could not be a soldier, what else would you like to do? Do you have other interests?"

Sonic's most obvious interest came to immediate mind."Yeah! I like to run! Do you like running?"

The machine tilted its head, caught on the concept of 'liking'. "... I am capable of running, though I exhibit no particular preference for it over any other means of locomotion. If the situation demands it, however, I am capable of running at a top speed of approximately thirty-five miles in an hour for extended periods of time."

"Really?" Sonic's eyes widened at the thought of meeting anyone that fast. This robot was easily the second-fastest person in the world, as far as he knew! "That's so cool! I can can run like ten times that speed if I have my shoes, but that's still really fast for other people to run!"

There was a long pause as Cygnus-1 processed the concept of the hedgehog's claim. "... … … That is highly improbable, considering Mobian anatomy. However-"

"Yes, I believe we have all now seen ze intellectual capability of even ze most basic personality package. Danke, little friend. You may run along, now." Faustian shooed the hedgehog out of center stage before he continued the demonstration. The SWATbot continued to bend bars, lift weights and perform feats of dexterity and accuracy that made it much more than any soldier could dream of being. The onlookers were impressed, the Military was elated, and the council was intrigued.

"I have seen more than enough, Doctor." King Max signed a set of papers presented to him by an aide and stamped the documents with the seal of his ring. "You have changed the course of the war with your brilliant invention, and all of Mobius owes you a debt of gratitude. I have just authorized the mass-production of your SWATbots. I expect your full cooperation in streamlining the designs and equipping our factories for mass-production."

Dr. Faustian basked in the spotlight of royal attention. "Oh, of course I will, Majesty." Ja, I have no doubt zat my SWATbots will do exactly as zhey were intended to do!" The fox folded his gloved hands together and added, quietly, "Ja... exactly as intended..."


	18. Chapter 13

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XIII: **'The Roboticizer'_

"Please forgive me for making you all travel out to my lab, but my joint project with Dr. Kintobor is not nearly so portable as Dr. Faustian's remarkable robot." Sir Charles Hedgehog opened the door for his entourage; his nephew Sonic, the king and his assemblage of guards, and his peers on the council. "Please, come in, come in."

"Ah, is zat your fabled invention over zere?" Dr. Faustian pointed to a large domed object covered in a drop-cloth. The dim lights of the workshop/laboratory cast an eerie glow on the countless contraptions and devices within.

"Good eye! Yes, under that cloth is the Roboticizer, the culmination of years and years of work between Julian and I. I think you will find it most intriguing."

"Of zat, I am very sure..." Faustian folded his arms behind his back, smirking. "If, of course, it lives up to your claims."

"It will do exactly as Sir Charles and I have designed." Dr. Kintobor squeezed his round form through the small doorway with some difficulty. "You can be very sure of that, as well."

"Enough..." King Max raised a hand to stop the argument before it could begin. "Let's go ahead and begin the demonstration, shall we?"

General Katzenov abruptly snatched a nearby stool and smoothly deposited it behind the king before he stepped to the back of the group for a cigarette.

"Ah, thank you, General." the king brushed the stool off with the trail of his robe and sat, flanked by his royal guards. "Go ahead, now."

Dr. Kintobor connected a cable from the machine under the cloth to a nearby console. "I will man the controls, Charles. You're better with presentations."

Sir Charles nodded to his longtime friend and took center stage in the room. "Ladies and gentlemen of the council. The object concealed beneath this cloth will one day mean many things to many people." The pointed behind himself, and lights began to show beneath the cloth. "It shall change the world as we know it! Picture a world without physical disabilities; missing or crippled limbs, failed organs, developmental or debilitating genetic disorders... this device will cure all this and more!" The aging hedgehog took the cloth in both hands and drew a deep breath. This was the moment he'd waited all his life for. Today was the day. "My life's work, and my lifelong dream, realized with the help of my dearest friend, Dr. Kintobor. We present to you..." He yanked the cloth away with a sudden tug; it swirled in the air and settled on the ground, revealing his invention, his bid at a page of history. "The Roboticizer!"

It was a deep blue metallic device, shaped like a hollow egg, with a door that the hedgehog quickly opened for them, revealing numerous mechanical manipulators and tools inside. "This device uses cutting-edge nanotechnology to fabricate or repair virtually any part of the body! To that end, I have arranged a simple demonstration for you all. Lieutenant!" Sir Charles called for someone from an adjacent room.

A uniformed white cat entered the room and saluted the assemblage with the only arm he had. "Lieutenant Cale Kitch, 108th Knight Corps."

"Lieutenant Kitch was gravely injured a month ago in battle; one of the countless heroes who pay a dear price every day for our continued security. Lieutenant, due to your injuries, your right arm had to be amputated just above the elbow, correct?"

"Yes, Sir." The cat nodded, perpetually professional.

"The Lieutenant has volunteered himself for today's demonstration." Sir Charles directed his volunteer to stand on a circular floor pad in the Roboticizer. "In the event that a patient cannot stand, there are optional components for a seated or prone patient. Allow me to assist you with your uniform jacket, Lieutenant?"

"Are you certain that this is safe?" The King was becoming visibly agitated at the idea of witnessing the test on a living Mobian. He was famously a bit squeamish about medical procedures as he grew older.

"Oh, absolutely, Majesty." Sir Charles left the Roboticizer with the top half of Lt. Kitch's uniform and closed the pod door. "This is the first live test, but there's been no problems at all during calibration tests. The device is perfectly safe, and calibrated exactly for our subject today. Let's begin."

Dr. Kintobor activated the device from his console and the blue pod came to life, buzzing and clacking as the numerous manipulators inside began diagnosing the occupant's injury and building a replacement. "Do not worry on behalf of the Lieutenant." He noted, smiling a little. "The process is painless." A groan from inside the Roboticizer punctuated his statement and the Overlander's smile faded into embarrassment. "Er... relatively so, in any case. Don't be alarmed."

The machine fell silent and the lights within it faded. Sir Charles released the pod door of the Roboticizer; it slid to the side and then swung outward with a long pneumatic hiss. A heavy fog rolled out of the open pod, a byproduct of the cooling systems, and the steam jet that cleaned and sterilized the internal equipment after use. From the darkness, a silvery metal hand emerged, the mechanisms in the open, visible joints whirred softly as it gripped the lip of the pod's open portal. Another hand of flesh and fur grabbed the other side and Lieutenant Kitch stepped out, taking his mechanical arm in his normal hand and staring at it in wonder. "It works..."

"Our machine, or your arm, Lieutenant?" Charles quipped, his mustache rising with his goring grin.

"Both, sir!" The cat turned his hands this way and that, comparing them and the way they moved. "It's like having my old arm back. There's no strain, no thought, nothing. It just moves like I'm moving my other arm! I can't believe I... thank you, sir." The soldier had received a new lease on life as he had known it.

Sir Charles extended his right hand to the cat, and metal and flesh shook hands for the first time. "As you can see, your majesty... the Roboticizer works perfectly. This is the end of all physical disability!"

"Simply amazing..." a round of applause made the king pause in genuine marvel as the rest of the council clapped for the two scientists and their invention. "Of... of course, I'll sign everything, this is to be funded completely, as much as you want. You have unlimited resources to further refine and develop your Roboticizer."

"I'd like to at least give the Lieutenant a check up in a few days, if possible, make sure there's no signs of rejection, of course." Dr. Lockheart noted from the middle of the crowd. "But I admit, things look pretty good from over here. The patient has an arm he didn't have before he stepped in your remarkable invention."

Dr. Kintobor smiled at his colleague from his place at the control panel. "We have done it, Charles!"

"Yes! Thank you, your majesty!" Sir Charles saluted his king, all smiles for the first time Sonic could honestly remember.

Sonic, too, clapped; though he didn't fully grasp the device or it's workings. He knew it worked, and that it was a very big deal to his uncle and the other grown ups, so he was happy for them. He knew it had healed the soldier who'd been hurt in the war, and that was a good thing. People didn't normally just get arms back when they were gone. However it worked, that was good enough for him. His uncle was a hero, just like all the famous soldiers he'd always loved to hear about. But this time, it was different. Uncle Chuck hadn't had to fight any battles or hurt anyone to do it.

It was a moment of realization for the rebellious young hedgehog. He could be a hero to people without having to cause the other side any pain. From that moment onward, his aspiration to become a soldier and join in the war ceased to be. He still wanted to be a hero to everyone, but he wanted to do it by following in his uncle's footsteps; by helping others.

Your machine is quite brilliant, ja..." Faustian's slow applause came to a halt. "Tell me, how much of ze body is it capable of replacing?"

"Oh, anything!" Charles was exuberant and happy to explain. It can even replicate organs, and those it can't, it can easily negate the need for! Why, I'd say with a little further development, it's possible to replace the entire body, if you had to!"

"Oh? Even ze brain?" Faustian was quick to ask, his excitement becoming too much to contain.

"Ah... now that is a good question..." The hedgehog ran his fingers through his large white mustache in thought. "I'm... not entirely sure, actually... Julian?"

"Hmmm..." The obese Overlander mulled the idea over, chin in hand. "It's theoretically possible the nanites could map the brain and fabricate a computer replacement. It would be a bit... err... dangerous, I think. But yes, I believe it could, eventually, even safely."

Another round of applause for the scientists rose up; and amidst the excited handshakes and congratulations, no one noticed the Minister of Engineering's slow, devious smile take shape. No one saw his trembling hands slowly rise to his chest and clasp together in triumph. For Dr. Faustian, the Roboticizer meant something more, something his lesser colleagues didn't see, or were afraid to see. Where they indeed saw a medical marvel, he saw perhaps the greatest medical marvel of all; the key to immortality. His words to himself were barely a whisper, unheard in the excitement of the day. _"...Wunderbar..."_


	19. Chapter 14

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XIV: **'Best and Brightest'_

"Reiha, I'm home!" Dr. Lorne Lockheart dropped his bag at the door of his stately suite and leaned against the closing door with an exhausted sigh. "I'm sorry I can't stay long; I've got more council business later today, but I wanted to stop by and take care of some of the housework for you!" He called into another room, where he imagined his wife was likely seated.

"That's not necessary." A thick accent from his past spoke to him from the next room. It was an accent from his homeland, the accent he had carefully unlearned after he moved to Mobotropolis. A wolfess joined him in the front hallway; it was not his wife, but he knew her well regardless. Her hair was in a ponytail, tufted high in the front, and she ware a form-fitting blue outfit that left her limbs bare. Her jewelry was simple and inscribed with symbols from their people's language. A tiny scar on her left cheek marked her as a member of his tribe; he himself had the same mark, hidden under his groomed fur. "You always did overwork yourself, my cousin."

"Lupe!" Lorne sprung back to liveliness, opening his arms to pick her up and spin her before giving her a tight hug. "What are you doing here!" He laughed. "You didn't tell me you were coming! I haven't seen you in..."

"Four years, cousin." Lupe returned his hug and smiled. "Not since you and Reiha left the pack to to live in the city. I'm sorry I didn't send word, but I'm here on behalf of Reiha. She wrote to me and asked me to come and help you take care of your home while she's... well..."

"Pregnant." Reiha, Lorne's wife, followed close behind, her bright, silvery dress flowing around her with each light step she took. She was quite fond of fashion, and her husband's lucrative career in medicine had allowed him to gift her with no end of fancy clothing. "Welcome home, love, I'm sorry this was all such short notice..." She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him gently; their usual greeting. "...but you've been so strained lately. I hardly get to see you at all. I wrote to your cousin in the hopes she could come and help with things... ohhh..." Reiha swayed on her feet and put a hand to her distended belly.

"I was happy to come!" Lupe helped her cousin with his frail wife. "Come now, cousin. You shouldn't be up and about. Let's get you to the couch." In actuality, Reiha was her real cousin; Lorne had married in to her family, but Lupe loved them both dearly. "Our family has always had trouble with pregnancies, but it seems doubly hard on you, you poor thing."

"I'm fine, really..." Reiha steadied herself a bit as the other two wolves helped her to the living room and its soft couch.

"Maybe I should stay on a while after the baby is born, cousin." Lupe sat down opposite the other girl and rested a hand on her shoulder. "You may need help taking care of it, and I've cared for many of the tribe's children at one time or another."

"How are things with the pack, anyway?" Lorne sat down in his usual chair, sinking in and sighing at finally sitting for the first time all day. "Still the same as ever?"

"The same." Lupe sighed. "Always the same. The elders do not understand, even now. While I share in their appreciation for the old ways, we still differ in that they do not understand that the old ways are not meant to last forever. Things must change. To survive and to live are very different things, but not to them."

"I'm sorry, Lupe, maybe I could find the time to go back, to talk to them about what I've seen, what I've done here..."

"No." The tribal wolfess shook her head at him. "There is no point. They will not listen to me, and I am next in line to lead. They will never listen to you. There are just too many who are afraid to change, afraid to live in a world that has changed." Lupe paused in thought, adding, "I respect their traditions, and they must always have a place, but when I am the leader, things will change."

Lorne glanced at his wrist suddenly, checking the time with a worried glance. "I'm sorry, Lupe, but I have another council presentation to attend shortly, and I really have to take care of some things around the house for Reiha, if you want to follow me to the kitchen we can-"

"No, no, cousin. I have already taken care of everything. I will go get you some lunch before you must go. Stay here with your wife." Lupe excused herself from the room, and Lorne changed seats to be next to his mate.

Reiha sat peacefully on the couch, her head tilted back against the back cushion, eyes closed, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Oh..." Lorne gently picked her up and laid her out on the couch, fluffing a pillow for her head, as he had so many times since she'd become pregnant. "Are you sleeping now, my love? Rest well..." He smiled a little and kissed her on the forehead. Just a few more months, and things wold be better, he knew. A few more months and they would have a child, and his wife would be the spirited woman he loved so much again; not this frail wisp of a girl, constantly in need of another rest. Pregnancies were notoriously hard on the women of her family. He didn't know quite why it was so difficult on them, but he had become a doctor in part for her, for her future and the future of their children. He never once regretted it. "Everything is going to be fine, darling." The smiling doctor took her hand and kissed it gently before setting it on her chest. "I'll take care of everything."

… … …

For Taylor Dalmarch, Minister of Civic Sciences and the greatest Architect of his time, the Garden of Life was always a place of peace. A place he had helped to create, and a place where he always went to see his oldest living friend. Today, his friend had caught him by surprise; he'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd missed the clack of the old wolf's staff on the pathway until it came to a rest beside him.

"Taylor..." Ren Maral, Minister of Environmental Sciences took a seat on the brown stone bench beside him. "You weren't at the presentations today. What's the matter? Are you all right?" At their age, the slightest hint of unwellness could be a terrifying reminder of mortality, and his voice was twinged with concern.

The stooped old mouse leaned back against the bench and took off his spectacles, regarding his old friend with bleary eyes. "I received a letter from the front lines this morning."

"From your grandson?"

"No." Minister Dalmarch looked away and sighed, biting his lip. "From his commanding officer."

This was never a good letter to receive, Ren knew. "Is your grandson all right?"

"He is dead."

"I'm so sorry, old friend." Ren leaned back on the bench and sighed heavily. "I am so very sorry. I don't know what to say..."

"No one should live long enough to see their children die, Ren... Two children. Three grandchildren. Gone, all gone..." The old mouse rested his forehead on the head of his cane and closed his eyes. He was beginning to sob. "I use to hate the Overlanders. I used to wish their dead god would up and take them all. But now I just... I just feel empty, Ren. Cold, inside." He raised a tired hand and pointed to the horizon, never looking up, but trying to stifle his tears. "Look at that building there. I designed that building."

Ren couldn't be sure of which building in the distance his friend pointed to, but it mattered little. He designed them all.

"Look at what they've done to it!" Taylor abruptly raised his head, teary eyes full of fire for an instant. "They turned it into a bomb shelter! It was a museum, for Harvester's sake! A museum!" His anger gave way to age and exhaustion again, and he sank back in to tears. I built all these things to make the world a beautiful place for my ch- ...I wanted to... I jus... I just wanted to make it beautiful for them! I just wanted... augh..." His words deteriorated into unintelligible sobs as his dreams fell apart in his mind.

Ren placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, trying to console the inconsolable as best he could. "I know, old friend. It's not fair, is it? I don't even remember why the war began, as old as I am. And still, we have to send our children away to fight it. It seems as though the crowds have all gone in our old age, doesn't it? I remember when I used to see children in the streets, playing. Now it's just old men like us, and those too young to fight."

"And we have to stay behind." the mouse stifled his crying again, and sighed. "Stay and watch everything we wanted to make for them turn to dust and ashes. Watch parks turn to graveyards. Soon, all that's left will be bunkers and shelters. That's to be my legacy, old friend. Taylor Dalmarch. He built bunkers for the war... It has to stop. They have to stop the war."

"I know, Taylor." The elderly wolf squeezed his friend's shoulder softly. "I know..."

"Oh, Ren... I used to want this war, you know..." he sighed up at the wolf, the tears running down his withered face. "I thought it made me a patriot. I was proud when they enlisted, every one of them. They fought while I was too old to fight. War took them all. But... but war won't bring them back. More killing won't bring them back to me. It has to stop!" He was becoming incoherent again.

Ren rose from the bench and helped his friend to stand. "Come on, Taylor. I'll take you to your home. We'll have some tea, and talk more there, all right?"

"No!" Minister Dalmarch tried to pull away. "I can't go back there, Ren! I built that place. For my wife. For our children. Our grandchildren! It used to be so warm... full of life, and their laughter! I can't go back and face those cold walls! I can't face the silence! I can't face the memories..." He finally broke down completely, and would have fallen to his knees in despair if the old wolf hadn't caught him with great difficulty. "Profound Designer save us all, Ren... and Designer damn growing so old. All I have left is memories..."

Out of ideas, Ren hugged his old friend as best he could, and let him sob into his chest. "Don't be so quick to dismiss the memories, my old friend..." He rested his chin on the short mouse's head. "The war can never take those away from you."

… … …

"Project log... uh... six-five-two. Personal file." Cassiopeia Notwen sighed as she stepped into her lab, tossing her large, feathered hat onto a rack and slumping down in her work chair. An automated system began recording her voice on command. "Just finished viewing the inventions of several colleagues. Astounding..." Her voice took on a tinge of admiration, and she almost managed a smile. "So many lives they'll save, or prolong. Only serves to remind me that I am building a machine that is exclusively for taking them away." She looked down, her sad, black eyes surveying the numerous machines, parts, and blueprints that adorned her table. Much of it had collected dust; she had been putting off finalizing her weapon design for such a long time.

"Can't hold the project back any further, now," she continued. "I know they are a necessary evil, but I also know that a gun has never brought joy to the Mobian heart, nor uplifted a living soul. I hate them. I hate the killing that will come... because of me. How can I reconcile this with my beliefs?" She picked up a shelved prototype, one of her most promising weapon designs for the new SWATbots, and turned it to face her, staring down its short barrel. "I cannot disobey the king. I worked so hard for this position, wanted to be a good role model for other avians. I can't shame my country and my people by giving it up now." Her feathered hands brushed across the smooth surfaces of the weapon. It was quite lethal. The early tests showed that the high-heat energy beam it discharged would incinerate a hole in almost anything she could find to test it on.

"I've chose to go with the mark three prototype, and I'll be finalizing the design and a few other features soon. It should be sufficient for his majesty's demands." The cardinal girl sighed softly, a soft little breath as melodic as it was sad. There was one other way out of her dilemma. If she truly had to be responsible for this instrument of death, an unforgivable offense to her belief that all life was sacred, then she could at least be the first one to suffer for it's existence. If she could muster the courage. Cassiopeia placed the energy pistol to the side of her head and closed her eyes. What would she have to live for, anyway?

"No." She placed the weapon back on the table. Her life was sacred, too, and her death would likely change nothing. The weapon's development would still go ahead. She had reasons of her own to live on. Death was a part of life, and if it was inevitable that people would die because of her, she at least preferred it to be the Overlanders. Her people were being slaughtered every day, and without a fair chance against their superior weapons. "I will not shirk from my duty."

"This weapon will take lives, I know."In a flash of renewed purpose, Cassi began work on the weapon anew, eager, for once, to expedite the completion. She had to get it into the hands of as many soldiers as possible before they were fully replaced. "But it will save lives, too. I think, in some small way, that may redeem both it and myself... at least in part. Still have a few minutes before I must leave for the next presentation." She opened the gun's casing and began comparing sketches tot he current internal workings, feverishly removing adding, and altering things inside. "Focus is on speed of manufacture, reliability, and ease of use, now. Lethality is present already, and I should have everything finished by the end of the week, if I do a few all-night sessions! End log." A beep announced the recorder's compliance, and she rose to her feet, taking up a piece of chalk on a nearby blackboard to write out some new ideas to make the weapon's energy output a bit more consistent and easier to mass produce.

She thought aloud all the while. "Now, if I reduce output in the reaction chamber by just twelve percent..." a series of scratching noises and the ruffle of a feathered finger erasing a mistake punctuated the idea. "That still allows the beam to maintain cohesion at... three hundred yards! Good, and if that eliminates the need for the regulator circuit, then how much does that deduct from manufacturing time? Think, Cassi..."

A beep from the door announced an unexpected visitor. "Come in!" Professor Notwen turned to face her visitor and was immediately reminded of another reason she had to carry on. "Oh! Hello, Arthur!"

"H-hi there, Prof... err, Cassi." Professor Arthur Calus flashed a buck-toothed grin at her... and a brown bag of food. "You're catching a little extra work in-between presentations?"

"Yes! I believe I've overcome the biggest hurdle in my project, finally." She chirped at him, smiling in the unique way of her beaked species.

"That's very good, I'm sure! I would hate to interrupt your work, but I brought you a quick lunch from that little place across the street. Would, um, would you like to eat with me before we head off to Dr. Metis' mysterious presentation?" He jostled the bag at her a little, still smiling. "I-if you have a moment, of course..."

Cassi glanced back to her equation... and then nodded to the squirrel. It had been so easy to forget how much he meant to her only moments before at the peak of her despair. "Yes, Arthur. I would love to! You're very considerate. Please, have a seat!" Her project could wait a few hours more. She had a life to live, too.

… … …

"Ladies and gentlemen of the council." Minister of Theoretical Sciences, Alicia Metis addressed her peers in the sterile light of her underground laboratory as the last few members of the council and their entourage trickled in. "Oh, Are we still down two?"

"Ministers Maral and Dalmarch will not be in attendence." The king took a seat at a provided table to watch the unveiling of the newest invention. "They send their regards and apologies."

"Ugh." The badger woman rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly. "Whatever. As I was saying, despite your many impressive accomplishments today, I have dwarfed you all once again, with a device that will end the Great War, and do anything else we desire, for that matter."

"Do tell..." King Max folded his hands on the table top and narrowed his eyes. It wouldn't be the first outrageous claim he'd endured from the brilliant but immodest scientist.

"Time travel, ladies and gentlemen!" Minister Metis endured the laughter of her colleagues with a smug smile. She pulled a lever on a nearby console, opening two large half-circle panels which swung slowly outward from the far wall of the room, revealing a silvery metal circle that ran nearly from floor to ceiling. "That's right! I have theorized the existence of time as an intrinsic element within the universe, not some abstract measurement! With this device, I can turn the flow of time back or forward, to create a gateway to another place, and another when!"

"Alicia!" The king rose, slamming his palms to the table and leaning in."I specifically forbade this project years ago! You went ahead with it behind my back?"

"When you see what it is capable of, your majesty, you will reconsider!" the badger woman pulled another lever into a locking position and the circle began to spin to life. Papers blew about the room as a shimmering ripple of light began to grow in the center of the ring, larger and louder over the uproar of the council.

"This is treason!"

"Shut it off, Alicia!"

"You can't do this!"

"I can and I shall!" Another lever was pulled and the gateway came to life with a roar, sucking in paper, dust, and small objects, in an inward rush of air. "This is science for science's sake! Your small minded fear of my brilliance will not stop progress! You always try to do this to my research! You always force me to sit in the shadow of your favorites and their pet projects! Not this time!"

"Alicia, this device is too much of a security risk!" The king shouted over the roar of the air being pulled past him. His crown tumbled from his head and his robes whipped around him as he motioned for his guards to take her. "This is your last warning, shut it down, now!"

At that moment, the room burst into chaos. Faustian dove under the table. Sir Charles took cover behind the heaviest machine he could find. Others braced themselves wherever they could as the pull intensified. Sturdier members of the council rose to help the royal guard restrain the renegade scientist, but she became increasingly berserk. Dr. Lockheart took a punch to the jaw. General Katzenov was elbowed in the nose, and a guard was kicked away in his less protected abdomen.

"Alicia! I will have you arrested and tried for treason if you refuse to stop this immediately!" Maximilian Acorn tried his best to remain imperious despite the debacle and the roar of the time portal.

"Shut up, you stupid old man! You've trod on my genius for too long! Creativity will not be denied by the likes of you!" Alicia threw off the remaining guard with surprising strength and raced up the ramp to the swirling portal. Without a glance back, she leapt inside, vanishing completely.

Maximilian shouted after her one last time. As the chair behind him was ripped from it's resting place by the shearing winds, however, he could only grip the table to remain steady and call for a more direct intervention. "Nikolai! Shut it down!"

The dazed tiger rose and gripped the console lever that had activated it, but it refused to budge. With no recourse, he drew a pistol from inside his jacket and emptied the clip into the console. With no controls maintaining it, the portal destabilized and collapsed with a loud, long hiss. The air, at last, began to calm and flying papers and debris drifted around the once calm and quiet lab. Nikolai wiped the blood from his nose on a pocket kerchief and stowed his gun with unshakeable silence. "Are you all right, Majesty?"

The aging squirrel caught his breath as an aide reseated him and returned his crown. "I will be fine... but..." He looked to the empty ring. "Alicia... where is she? W-when... is she?"

"I don't think it matters now, your Highness." Dr. Lockheart rose to his feet, rubbing his sore jaw. "That... portal she made... air was blowing into it rapidly..."

"Yes." Professor Notwen tried to calm herself, smoothing down her badly ruffled plumage. "That would... that would imply a pressure differential between here and the destination point.. Judging from the quantity of air moving through the portal from our side, it would imply that the other end opened... into a vacuum."

A look of uncertainty and horror crossed the king's face, and he arched his brows for further explanation. "Meaning...?"

"Meaning there is no atmosphere wherever the Minister has gone." Sir Charles rose from cover with an equally disturbed expression. "She is dead, your Highness."

There was a very long silence as the king rubbed his temples and tried to formulate a response. At last, he broke the silence of the disheveled group. "...I want this machine dismantled and destroyed."His words were slow and deliberate; his horror at what had happened was as obvious as the regal facade he put on to hide it. "All the files pertaining to it are to be locked up and classified completely, or destroyed if possible. Take apart this lab and close it down, permanently. There will be a meeting in the private audience room at the castle tomorrow morning. ...Attend." He rose slowly, weakly, and was escorted from the room by an aide and his guards, leaving the council to sit in silence again as the last bits of floating debris at last settled. They, too, were quick to leave after making the arrangements to carry out his orders.

One of the last in the room, Sir Charles called to the last two members before they could leave. "Reinhardt! Julian! Wait a moment."

"What is it, Charles?"

"In light of all this, I think I should give you both these letters sooner rather than later." The old hedgehog sighed, presenting a pair of envelopes addressed to his two colleagues. "Thank goodness my nephew wasn't here to see this presentation."

Dr. Faustian regarded his letter with a disdainful, but curious glance. "What is zis all about, Charles?"

"I... I honestly don't know. You should read them in private, and decide what you want to do from there." Charles shook his head, still stunned by what had happened in the lab, and excused himself. "I'm sorry, I just can't stay here anymore. Excuse me."

"Ja... I am going as well. _auf wiedersehen_..." Faustian had a tendency to revert to his native tongue when upset. He also left, leaving only Dr. Kintobor to close the lab doors alone.

The obese Overlander opened the letter and read it silently as he left the lab.

_'Julian Ovi Kintobor,_

_ I have a proposition for you and the other recipients of my letters. I request your attendance at a meeting on the last night of this month, at the abandoned factory in sub-sector 3-B of the industrial district. The future of Mobiankind, and indeed your life will be greatly affected by this meeting, so please do attend. You are to discuss this with no one._

_ Regards,_

_ an interested party~'_

It was brief and exacting, that much was sure. Tomorrow was to be the last night of the month, and Julian was intrigued enough to make no further plans for that night. He would see what this 'interested party' wanted.


	20. Chapter 15

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XV: **__'The Warning'_

The private audience chamber of Castle Acorn was rarely used for festive meetings these days. This dreary Mobotropolis morning would be no exception to the trend. The grim stone walls of the dimly-lit room and the red banners that trailed down them were relics of an older time. This was a room now used for it's security, rather than stateliness. A few dim bulbs set in decorative chandeliers flickered like torchlight as the assemblage gathered in silence; the king and his Scientific Council, sans one.

"What is discussed in this room, this morning, must never be spoken of outside." King Max began, resting his elbows on the large wooden round table and interlacing his fingers. "Officially, Alicia Metis was killed in a tragic accident during a demonstration, yesterday. That's close enough to the truth and good enough for the public. Her position will remain vacant for the time being; something more important has happened and the purpose of our meeting has changed. Last night... we had an unexpected visitor. Nikolai?"

The tiger adjusted his dark glasses; he wore them in any light. "Yes, An Overlander senator has come to the city seeking an 'urgent' audience with the council, specifically. He's expected to arrive any minute.

"An Overlander senator?" Dr. Kintobor leaned forward in his oversized chair. "That _is _an unexpected visitor indeed. Who is it?"

The doors to the audience chamber swung open, and Senator Odwin entered, flanked by Mobian guards on both sides.

"Odwin?" Kintobor arched a brow, surprised.

"Julian!" Senator Odwin took a step back, a look of shock and surprise on his wrinkled face. "They... they said you were dead! Why are you here?"

"We may all ask the same of you, Senator." The king interjected. "Why have you come here? What is the nature of this urgency of yours?"

The aged senator produced a small folder from his white robes and slid it across the table to the Mobian monarch. "_That_ is the nature of this emergency. The Central Speaker has conceived a terrible device with which he intends to bring the war to a close. It is called the Mass Extinction Drive, and that folder you now hold outlines everything I know about it."

"What in the Designer's name..." King Acorn thumbed through the folder's contents in stunned quiet. "I don't even understand it all. Julian." He passed the folder down the table to the Overlander scientist. "Do you know what to make of this?"

The Obese Overlander perused the contents, one hand idly twirling his long orange mustache. After a few moments, that idle hand came to rest on his chin, then his face, in horror. "This is...! Your Highness, this is a doomsday weapon. It will kill the entire Mobian species if it works."

"What!" A chorus of chatter rose from the entire council, but the king spoke over it all. "Do you think it truly could?"

"I don't believe this device to be possible to build with contemporary technology." Dr. Kintobor shook his head. "But Colin is not one to chase fantasies. He may have discovered something we don't know about."

"It _is _real!" Odwin paced behind his former countryman, his white leather boots lightly clicking on the rough stone floor. "Colin won a vote of approval for it's construction already. It exists and is in development as we speak!"

The king's brow furrowed. "Could it be meant to be some sort of threat, a bargaining chip for peace? Surely he wouldn't use such a thing...?"

"Your Majesty, I know my nephew, Colin, quite well." Julian looked up from the documents, his face solemn. "He is a snively little coward, but he's also quite ruthless. He will use this weapon, and at the first possible opportunity." He passed the folder on to General Katzenov, adding, "However, the time and resources it would require to build this machine and its large housing structure would be enormous. If it were destroyed, it is unlikely that his resource-starved nation would be able to build another any time soon."

"Nikolai." The king turned his attention to his most trusted adviser on security and strategy. "What are our options?"

"A full frontal assault, all or nothing." The tiger nodded to himself as he studied the information from behind his sunglasses. "We could wait until the device was near completion, and attack the tower housing itself. If that goes down, the device seems to be unusable."

"How can we be sure?"

"The Hellcats recovered a great deal of weapons development files from an incursion into an Overlander military facility a few days ago. The files were heavily fragmented and we could not determine what they were referencing, but now that I see these papers I am certain they pertained to this same device. It clearly was indicated to have an altitude requirement. Bringing the tower down would render it useless, or possibly destroy it on impact with the ground."

"You cannot attack it with the forces you have." Senator Odwin dismissed the tiger's plan for an all-out assault. "It's well known to us that you're in as bad a situation as we are. You know we have troops but no resources. We know you have resources, but no troops. Colin will know what I've done here today; he'll have an entire army to protect this device, wherever he may be building it. You would need a sizable force of allies."

"Mobotropolis has no allies." The Mobian King noted, curtly. "Mobotropolis needs no allies. She has weathered the darkest hours of this war in solitude, and will have to do so again. Now then..." He returned to a steely focus, eying the robed senator. "Perhaps there are other things you could tell us that would be of use as well. Just to determine the legitimacy of your intent here, of course. What is the current political situation in Overland?"

"That's irrelevant. The device, your Majesty, please." Senator Odwin shook his head and tried to change the subject back.

"What are the current troop deployments throughout Overlander holdings?"

"That's irrelevant!"

"Tell me the location of any research facilities you are presently aware of."

"All irrelevant!" Odwin slammed his fists on the table forcefully. Too old to yell for long, however, he quickly regained his composure and sighed to himself softly. "You seem to misunderstand my intentions, your Majesty. I am not here to defect." There was more than a trace of contempt in his tone; he'd expected better than what he'd seen from the meeting. "I cannot allow an entire civilization to be extinguished like this, but that does not mean I will betray my people to you. I can do nothing more here, now please let me leave. I've given the warning, what you do with it is your own choice now."

The king folded his hands in silence. Only after General Katzenov leaned in and whispered to him did he give a quiet answer. "Yes. Thank you for this information, Senator. You are free to go, now."

Still flanked by royal guardsmen, the senator did so. The doors closed behind him with a heavy wooden thud and left the meeting hall in silence, silence that would be broken again by Katzenov. "Your Highness, I share your sentiment, but even if we have the strength to protect ourselves, we would still require a formidable air force to launch any reasonable attack on such a massive structure. Our Ornithopters are not adequate for this, my King..." He paused, uncomfortable with the inevitable fallout from what he would next propose. "Angel Island passes close by us this time of year. If we were to meet with them and -"

"The Echidnas?" King Acorn snorted. "Meet with them? With Dimitri? Bah!" He dismissed the idea with a gesture. "Why should they help us? They seceded from the kingdom centuries ago, and they enjoy an ideal strategic situation now. Whoever wins the war, Overlanders or Mobians, the Echidnas can sweep in and crush the weakened victor. Why give away certain control of the world on a gamble?"

"General Katzenov is right, your Majesty." Sir Charles, usually the staunchest defender of the king's side, earned a stunned look from the crestfallen squirrel king. "Angel Island is a veritable fortress. A flying one at that."

"It would make a formidable staging point, and they have access to far superior air vehicles," the general cut in.

"Right!" Sir Charles nodded sharply. "If this machine, this Mass Extinction Drive can kill all Mobians, then the Echidnas are not immune! Dimitri has everything to lose by refusing us help. No matter how much they posture and pretend otherwise, they are still Mobian."

"Mmm..." King Max's brow furrowed. "Very well. I need time to think about how to progress from here. You may all leave, for now."

The assembly rose from their seats on command and began filing out of the archaic meeting hall, back into the modern castle grounds. Even the guards were ordered to go. Sir Charles was the last to leave, but he was halted by the voice of his king.

"Not you, Charles."

"Yes, your Majesty?" The Hedgehog closed the doors and sat back down.

"What should we do, now?" The king took the crown from his head and sat it on the table, adopting a much less formal posture and expression. He sat his elbows on the table and slowly rested his forehead on his clasped hands.

"What do you mean, Highness?" Sir Charles rose again and changed seats to sit beside his king and lifelong friend.

"I always thought..." The king paused in thought for a moment, "I thought that the kingdom would end on some other king's watch. I thought, if the end came under mine... it would come in battle. A real battle with the Overlanders; not through some damnable machine that simply kills us all without a struggle."

"Do you believe this device really exists, then, Max?" Charles dropped the formal pretenses; he was one of very few who had known the king long enough to call him by his name in private.

"Yes." King Max answered, breathlessly, "why wouldn't it? And what difference would it make if it did or didn't, really? We must still act as though it did."

"I agree." Charles nodded softly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder in support. "And I agree with the general, too. We have to strike at it! But we lack the people. You have to go to Angel Island, Max."

"I know." The squirrel smoothed back his thinning hair with his hands and sighed. "I have to go and grovel at Dimitri's feet, admit that we've lost the war, and beg him to commit to an attack on our behalf. And then my failure as a king will finally be complete."

"You're not a failure, Max! You inherited this war from a generation we never even met! What were you supposed to do?" The hedgehog shook his friend's shoulder lightly.

"I am a failure, my old friend. That much is evident in the faces of the people outside these castle walls." Maximilian's gaze turned inward, to his memories. "They looked at me with such hope. So much hope on their faces, when I was crowned. I was going to end the Great War, and return our people to the glorious days of the Technological Revolution. My Father was such a great king, Charles. And Grandfather before him. They ruled Mobotropolis, when Mobotropolis ruled the world. I'm ashamed of what a weak king I've been..."

"People still love you, your Majesty." Charles smiled at him. "Perhaps there are some dissidents, but most of us still believe in you, just as we believed in your father and grandfather."

"A fine sentiment, my old friend." Max smiled at him, but it slowly faded away again. "It's not true, though. I don't see hope on their faces any longer. Now they just wait for the end. And on days like today, so do I."

"Don't talk like that."

"There comes a time, my old friend..." The king picked up his crown and stared at the dull lustre of the tarnished gold and scuffed purple velvet. His reflection looked back from the worn gemstones as he scrutinized both it and himself. "...when all the power is as nothing, when all the wealth becomes worthless, when the throne grows cold and uncomfortable, and the king has no decent way left to go." He sat the regal symbol back down on the table, gently.

"Max..."

"And when that time comes, humiliation no longer matters. I will go to Angel Island tomorrow and beg to their emperor to save my people. For my kingdom's sake. I won't be remembered for much; at least I may yet be remembered for this. Will you go with me, Charles? I'd be more comfortable in that arrogant echidna's court with an old friend by my side."

This elicited a frown from the hedgehog. "I'm afraid I can't. I have to be in Knothole by that time tomorrow to oversee the-"

"Ah yes!" Max chuckled to himself. "The Ring Generator, your brilliant new power system. I'd forgotten all about it. That is tomorrow, isn't it? My goodness. Do you think it will go well? Ah, Knothole... I wish I could be there for the installation."

"If all goes well, it will take the Summer Palace entirely off the power grid. It needs water as a catalyst for the energy generation, so I thought I'd have it installed at the bottom of the pond, there. It should make Knothole a much more secret 'secret retreat' if there's no power lines running to it." Sir Charles smiled, happy to leave their depressing conversation behind them. "Perhaps you should take your family there again. You could use a holiday."

"After the war is done." The king nodded sharply, "One way or another, it soon has to draw to a close; neither side can sustain the fighting any more. "Perhaps I will go for a stay at Knothole. And perhaps I'll make it permanent."

"Your Majesty?"

"Charles, as soon as Bean is old enough to rule, I'm stepping down, for good. I welcome it. The throne needs to go to her. Our young people fought to save our world in this war; it ought to belong to them after the war is done."

There was a nod, and smile, from the king's confidante. "Speaking of which, would it bother you if I left my Nephew with Rosie until I returned? I won't have time to keep an eye on him If I take him to Knothole with me."

"Sonic?" King Max smiled. "Of course! Your nephew is always welcome here."

"I'm grateful that you're not too angry with him..."

"About Undercity?" Max's expression became neutral. "Well, I am, a bit, to be honest with you. But, while it's true that he may have put my Bean in danger, he also saw her through it safely. That earns a little bit of a father's forgiveness, I think. Besides..." he added, "She's quite fond of Sonic." A long, worried sigh escaped him. "I'd best treat the boy well. In another decade or two, he might be the king!"

The pair shared a long laugh. "Your Majesty, if my nephew becomes king, then it really _will_ be the end!"

"Hmm." The squirrel chuckled to himself. "I seem to recall a similar boy in this castle, decades back. Naive, a bit arrogant, constantly got into trouble, thought he was going to take on the whole world someday, as I recall."

"He made out pretty well, if I remember it right." Charles smiled from behind his large white mustache.

"Got crowned king, in any case."


	21. Chapter 16

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XVI: **__'Making Fate'_

It was late. As Sir Charles Hedgehog walked unseen through the dark alleyways of an industrial block of the city, he knew full well what kind of meeting he was going to. Meetings that took place this late in this sort of setting were the kind of dangerous thing that might have excited him in reckless youth, but now he was older and knew much better. He wouldn't have even gone, were it not for the unique and disturbing way the message had first come to him. Someone had used his nephew, his foster child, just to get the chance to meet with him. That sort of person, Sir Charles knew, was not the sort of person to be denied.

The Industrial District was by far the oldest non-renovated, and consequently, the most worn down section of Mobotropolis. The smog-heavy cloud cover of the area was a long-standing blight on the rest of the city's beauty, but it had been a shining place in its heyday at the height of the Technological Revolution. That was long ago, and now the centuries-old buildings in the area were increasingly abandoned as they were eaten away by time and elements. Only automated machinery and residents of Undercity who had crawled back to the surface remained there.

The old hedgehog's cane tip splashed in puddles of black water as he made his way through pockmarked streets and collapsed alleyways, ever out of sight. He couldn't imagine the chronically obese Dr. Kintobor or the overdressed Dr.. Faustian braving the same climbs and crawls, but a part of him knew that they were on their way as well. The large, yellow '3-B' stenciled into a wet and crumbling concrete facade told him he was near. He had to shine a light ahead to find his way; the two moons had long since hidden themselves behind the oppressive smog ceiling. The note hadn't been specific enough about which abandoned factory; indeed, they lined the streets, but Sir Charles could guess which one it must have meant.

The Manufactory, three-hundred years ago, was a testament to the wanton, heedless advances of its age; a completely automated wonder that could produce thousands of goods from thousands of categories every day, all without a single Mobian lifting a finger. It eradicated much of the area's labor, and with it, much of the employment. Soon there was no one in the district with the money to buy the products it churned out and the entire facility fell into ruin. It was no wonder that the poor of Undercity had come up to reclaim it. The old hedgehog saw the rotten crates stacked high and filled with forgotten goods, long before he even reached the fallen gates of the factory. The clothes within may have been threadbare and decaying, and the tools rusted and brittle, but they were better than nothing.

The half of the remaining factory gates creaked forlornly in the occasional bit of wind as he passed it. There were other sets of footprints in the mud and dust; he knew they were recent, and that he had come to the right place. An unsettling fog was rolling in on the street outside, and wisps of it had found their way into the building itself, tiny little tendrils of vapor that poured and flowed as if alive along the cracked marble floors of the entrance hall. Time and filth had tinged the once shining structure of bronze and steel an unrelenting drab gray, but the footprints could still barely be seen leading onward. They led the hedgehog past a splintered and rotten reception desk, where he paused a moment to examine the vaguely anthropomorphic rusted robot that lay slumped across it. Such a primitive machine would have once repeated a programmed set of directions and information as it wheeled through the factory, guiding visitors on a tour. Sir Charles carefully lifted its can-like head and looked at the chipped remnants of a painted face as the machine's speaker sputtered to life one last time.

"WElcOOooooOoom..." the digitized voice trailed of into grim silence with a faint crackle and a whiff of smoke.

The old scientist sat the device's head back down carefully, nervously. He hadn't wanted to make noise. Carefully, he trained his ears deeper into the facility; but only silence came from within. Confident that he hadn't alerted any given band of random Undercity looters, he pressed onward into the long, quiet dark of the old factory grounds.

It was cold, Charles realized. More cold than usual, and far too cold for the season. Was he in a refrigerated area of the Manufactory? A look out of a small, mesh-covered window suggested not. The fog outside was thickening and rolling; he could barely see the streets and ruins outside anymore due to the unseasonable weather. It was seeping in from higher places, now, and it rolled down the metallic stairs before him at a lazy, deliberate pace. The thick, wet mists clung to his ankles and feet and gave the sensation of walking underwater as he climbed the stairs. He fastened a few more buttons on his dark blue waistcoat for warmth and resumed the search.

He soon came upon light in the black expanse of rooms and corridors, a sure sign that he had found his colleagues. In a balcony office, overlooking the main factory floor, Dr. Julian Kintobor sat on a large crate. The Overlander scientist idly passed his flashlight beam over various crates and boxes in the room, silently reading the labels to himself with a bored sort of time-passing interest. Dr. Reinhardt Faustian leaned against an office wall, casting the occasional irritated glance out the large windows to the factory floor below.

Sir Charles was met with a sudden brightness as Dr. Kintobor shone his light on his face. "Ah, Charles!" The light was quickly withdrawn after a hasty apology. "I'm glad you made it in this strange weather."

"Ja," Dr. Faustian gestured out the windows, offering little more than a casual nod in greeting. "Zat mist. I did not see it when we first arrived." He pointed down at the ground floor, where it pooled and flowed in the shadows of the forgotten factory machinery and assembly lines.

"If someone is trying to scare us, I think they're doing a good job." Sir Charles took a seat beside Dr. Kintobor and shivered for an instant from the strange, cold air. "Sorry to have kept you waiting. At least we're all here, now."

"Not quite." Faustian shook his head slowly, already tired of waiting around in the gloomy place. "Our mystery 'host' is not here."

"...Oh, but I am, Doctor Faustian..."

A disembodied voice met their ears. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, quiet as it was. The mist that clung to the floor of their second-story room suddenly pulled away from the walls and coalesced in the center, rising up into a shadowy pillar that took the shape of a robed figure. The hazy outline of the mist solidified into a real being, who took a step out of the darkness and met the three scientists. They had seen him before.

"You again..." Dr. Kintobor was the first to recognize the purple-robed Mobian. "You were the one at the Forum Gardens the other morning..." His voice was tinged with surprise and interest. There were no wellborn among the Overlanders, and as a result, he'd never seen actual magic up close. It didn't mesh well with his scientific worldview, but it was fascinating all the same. "Who _are_ you?"

A set of glimmering, grinning teeth appeared from the darkness of the figure's frayed hood, and a glowing set of white eyes emerged from the inky nebula within its shadows. "I go by many names these days, but you know me as The Prophet."

"You're no ordinary Undercity crazy." Faustian regarded the figure with a disdainful curiosity. "What is it you're after? And for zat matter, what do we have to do with it?"

"Straight to the point?" The Prophet asked with a disappointed tone, turning to face the fox. "Very well. I want to make things change. It's as simple as that, really."

"You're a rather hands-on prophet, then, aren't you?" Sir Charles noted, dubious.

"Hands-on?" The robed prophet faced the hedgehog and shook his purple-hooded head. "Not at all. A very selective one? Perhaps. Prophecy, sir, is a strange business. At the most basic level, it's just empty words; but people have an unusual tendency to try to make them come true, both the good ones and the bad. As for how you three are involved in this, I chose you because you have interesting secrets. Things that, if revealed to the world at large, would be very unfortunate for you."

"Oh?" Dr. Faustian pushed himself off the wall lightly and stood, folding his arms and nodding to himself. "I see. So it's to be blackmail, eh? And what can you possibly know?"

"I know you only use that terrible accent to make yourself sound more important than you are, doctor." The Prophet pointed a bandaged, green-furred hand at the fox in accusation. "More importantly, I know you're a traitor. You sell secrets to the Overlanders for mere money. Your salary on the council isn't enough for you."

Dr. Kintobor stared at the fox in stunned silence, but Sir Charles voiced their shared concern. "Is... is that true, Reinhardt?"

Dr. Faustian shrugged nonchalantly, no trace of his accent in his voice. "I live an expensive lifestyle."

"You traitorous animal! How can you sell our technology to them? How many soldiers have-"

The Prophet cut Sir Charles off in mid-sentence. "I wouldn't be too quick to judge him, were I you. After all, you know better than anyone how hard it can be to come by the money you need. Isn't that right, Sir Charles Hedgehog?" The twisted, pearly grin of the Prophet's teeth, visible even in the darkness under his hood, widened.

"Oh?" Faustian, quick to jump to his own defense, mirrored the cruel smile. "What's he on about, Charles? Is there something you'd like to tell us? Or should we ask our new friend, here?"

"I'll save you the trouble." Charles frowned and looked down at his feet. "I've been embezzling money for years. I've rearranged funding throughout the Scientific Council's projects, pulling it from others to keep my own projects afloat, all in secret. It was stupid. And wrong. But my creations have saved lives, and I stand by the decision because of it."

"Aww." Faustian tilted his head in mock pity. "What a noble crime. You care nothing about anyone but yourself and your fame. You'll walk all over anyone to hold on to your precious projects. You and I are the same!"

"That's not true, Faustian!" Sir Charles shouted back, rising to his feet and leaning on his cane. "My selfishness; and it is selfishness, I admit, has nonetheless saved lives! Yours costs them!"

"It will matter little who is right and who is wrong," the Prophet noted, "If Dr. Kintobor's brilliant invention is completed and kills us all."

"Wait, what?" Hedgehog and fox both immediately ceased their argument and turned to the only remaining party not exposed. "Julian?"

"I believe he must be referring to the Mass Extinction Drive." Julian shifted uncomfortably upon his box as the spotlight of accusation turned itself upon him. "I'm not positive, but it's possible that I may have... I may have indirectly made it possible."

"You invented it nearly in its entirety." The Prophet corrected.

"...Yes." Dr. Kintobor rose with the help of his cane and nodded in affirmation, his robotic eyes adjusting focus as he turned to his colleagues. There was no sense hiding anything now. "The device as it is now is based heavily on technology I was pursuing during my time as Central Speaker. I wanted to build the device to pacify, and only use the threat of it to force a peace treaty. But I wouldn't have actually fired the damnable thing! You must believe that! I am a scientist. Pointless destruction won't further that cause."

"Oh, of course." Faustian scoffed. "You'd only threaten genocide, that's all. I doubt even I could go that far, Doctor."

"Julian... I..." Sir Charles stammered for a response to this revelation. "As a friend... I believe you. But..."

The Prophet interrupted him with a click of his walking stick on the metal floor. "Your feelings are all irrelevant to the issue at hand. The point is that the three of you noble paragons are guilty of terrible crimes." He pointed his stick at Sir Charles, "Embezzlement." Dr. Faustian, "Treason." and Dr. Kintobor. "War Crimes." His walking stick clicked back to the floor and he smiled again from behind his dark hood. "But these are crimes against a government, not people. My point is, if the current government here in Mobotropolis ceased to exist... well, then so would your crimes. No one cares about crimes against a nonexistent nation."

"A coup, then?" Faustian quirked a brow. "Is that the point of all this? You think we're just going to up and kill the king to cover our trails? Just like that?"

"Just like that." The prophet turned his nebulous, dark face to the fox, his glowing white eyes increasing in intensity like a pair of stars in the night sky.

For an instant, Dr. Kintobor glanced aside, entertaining an aberrant thought, a notion that hadn't ever come to him before, but it passed as quickly as it came.

"Enough of this." Sir Charles turned to leave. "Maximilian is a personal friend. I want nothing to do with this. Ruin me if you wish, but I won't help you. All your blackmail can buy is my departure in peace, instead of putting this cane to your skull for the notion of such a thing! Julian?"

"I quite agree. This entire meeting is pointless, and I am through wasting my time here." The round Overlander joined his hedgehog friend at the door. "Dr. Faustian?"

"Ja." The engineer cleared his throat and returned to his thick accent. "Even if you tried to expose us, who would believe you? A crazy old street-preacher Undercity dweller's word against mine? You are nothing but a fool with a few good connections. Nein, I am done with zis nonsense."

The three departed, and soon went their separate ways, back to their separate lives, leaving the Prophet alone in the darkness. He remained there, and waited, and listened until the footsteps faded. As the long minutes passed, one set echoed in the building anew, as one of the three slowly, quietly returned. He had waited for this, he had known it would be exactly this way, and he greeted them even before he saw them again. "Welcome back, Doctor... We must have a long talk now, you and I, for there is so much to discuss..."


	22. Chapter 17

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XVII: **__'The Price of Liberty'_

The Mobian dawn rose upon the royal airstrip beside Castle Acorn, to a gathering of greetings and goodbyes. A small ornithopter, a bird-like flying craft, was preparing for departure on its all-important diplomatic mission.

"Hurry up, Sonic, we can't be late!" Sir Charles crossed the small landing strip with his nephew close behind.

"Wait up, Uncle Chuck!" Sonic protested, hobbling behind him slowly. Without his corrective shoes, he just couldn't seem to keep up with anyone.

"Oh!" Charles frowned with realization and turned to face his nephew, crouching down to his height. "I'm sorry, sonny. I'm just so used to lagging behind you, I forgot..." He offered his arms to the young hedgehog, lifting him up and placing him on his shoulders. "Oof! You're either getting heavier, or I'm getting older!"

"I think it's a little of both worlds, my old friend." King Max approached them on the runway, dressed in a pilot's uniform, his crown replaced temporarily with a leather pilot's cap.

"You're going to fly today?" Sir Charles smiled at him. "You haven't been in the pilot's seat in a while, have you?" Quietly, he wanted to tell him everything; about last night, about his own misdeeds in the past, anything to assuage the slow burn of guilt in his mind, but in the wake of his important work on his new Ring Power Generator, there was just too much to lose. He continued to hide behind pleasantries.

"Don't worry about me, Charles!" The king waved his hand dismissively. "You never forget how to fly an ornithopter, and this time I won't have Overlanders shooting at me, for once. Should be a pleasant change, I think."

"Were you a soldier, your Majesty?" Sonic chimed in from atop his uncle's shoulders. He'd only ever known the king as an old man. The idea of him having fought in the ongoing Great War was new and fascinating.

"I was a pilot, yes, my boy." The king nodded, happy to reminisce on his glory days. "That was a very long time ago. My grandfather was king then. The Great War was still going on even then, and so I joined in the fighting, as a young prince is usually expected to do. I flew my fair share of missions here and there, transport and combat both."

"Several dozen missions, as I recall." Charles noted as they walked down the landing strip together. "Even got shot down once, if memory serves."

"Twice!" King Max, swept up in memories of youth, took Sonic from his uncle's shoulders and carried him the same way. "One of them was behind enemy lines."

"How did you get back?" Sonic asked.

The king glanced up at his young charge, smiling. "Well, I wish I could say I bravely fought my way though legions of crack Overlander troops, but sadly no. I... well, I owe my late father and grandfather much for that one, and let's just leave it at that." The trio arrived at the King's personal ornithopter, a very large model, styled after some noble bird of prey and painted in a deep blue and bright white; the colors of the Acorn family. "Here we are!" Max leaned forward and helped Sonic down to the ground, then up the deployed set of stairs into the vehicle proper.

"All right, sonny." Charles patted his nephew atop the head as he helped the king settle him in a passenger seat of the vehicle. "I'm going to be gone on business for a little while. I want you to be on your best behavior; it's very generous of his majesty to take care of you while I'm in Knothole. Now, as soon as I get back, I'll make you a new pair of shoes. But until then, you just have to take it slow, and behave yourself. Promise?"

"Promise!"

"That's my boy." Charles ruffled his nephew's quills. "I'll be back in a week at the most, and I'll see you then."

"Come, Charles." The king placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'll show you to your transport ornithopter. Everything's been loaded aboard by now."

The elderly duo carefully stepped down the access stairs of the vehicle, a sudden glint of morning sunlight forcing them to turn away. As the descended. "The best of luck to you in arguing with that arrogant echidna, Max. I wish I could come with you."

"Nikolai and I can handle Dimitri." The king hand-waved the notion away. "All the same, I wish you could come too, but I am quite excited about this 'ring power generator' of yours. You think it will really work, then?"

"I'm certain it will work." Charles walked down the runway beside him, a distant ornithopter coming in to view as they passed by a stone wall. Both of them had grown slow of foot in their old age, so it was easy for one to keep up with the other. "All the small-scale models worked, and the science is sound. Barring unforeseen complications, the generator will be smoothly installed in the pond at Knothole and supply the entire area's electricity."

After a short silence, King Max saw his lifelong friend to the stairs of the other ornithopter."Well then! Do send word as soon as you have it running; I'm eager to hear if the generator performs as well as we expect it to. Best of luck to you my friend." He turned away, and paused a moment. "Oh, and Charles..."

"Hmm?"

Max turned back to face him, smiling. "Knothole is a retreat, remember? Do at least try to enjoy the nature and weather a bit while you're there, all right?"

"You know that I'm married to my work, Max..." Sir Charles sighed a little, shrugging. "But I'll try."

Within the king's own ornithopter, its sole little occupant kicked his feeble legs in his seat, waiting quietly for the king to return. When the entry hatch opened however, it was not his royal majesty, but a rather large entourage of others who entered. The first figure stooped to get her aging frame through the too-small hatch, and sonic immediately recognized her. "Rosie!"

"Ahh, there you are. Hello, Sonic." The matron smiled at her student and charge, taking a seat nearby. "I'm glad to see you all right. I've heard all about your little... misadventure already." She shot him a stern look. "I trust you'll stay out of trouble, for my sake?"

"It was my fault, Rosie!" A small figure stepped out from behind Rosie's robe, accosting her in the way only a child could. "I put Sonic up to it, so don't be mad at him!"

"Sally!" Sonic tried to hop out of his seat, but the belt and buckle he'd forgotten about held fast and knocked the wind from him. "Oof!" He snapped back into the seat suddenly, rubbing the quills on the back of his head and blushing in embarrassment. "Ow. Hi, Sally."

The princess giggled, lifting the sides of her elegant dress to take a seat comfortably beside her friend. She waited for Rosie to be too busy with preparations to pay attention to them, then she gave Sonic the secret handshake and grinned, whispering quietly. "You're so goofy, sometimes. I'm glad to see you though! Was your uncle mad? Did he get the letters?"

"Sonic gave the thumbs-up, joining in their whispered conversation. "Yeah! We did it! Uncle Chuck was really mad, but things are okay now. Was your dad angry? What about the others?"

"Daddy was furious!" Sally whispered, shaking her head at the memory. "Antoine's super-grounded, I heard. I don't know about the others. I'll try to get a message to them to tell them we did it."

Another figure entered the vehicle, flanked by a pair of attendants. His imposing frame cast a dark shadow over the two young Mobians as he passed, but they didn't feel threatened.

Sally waved and smiled to the man she saw almost every day. "Hello, General Katzenov!"

"Good morning, Princess." The Tiger and his staff all bowed their heads respectfully. "And who is this with you, hmm?"

"Sonic, sir." The hedgehog answered for her, with uncharacteristic politeness. He had great respect for soldiers, even at his young age.

"Ah, yes! Sir Charles' boy. I've seen you before, but we've never formally met." The general smiled from behind his large sunglasses. "You're the one with the remarkable genetic condition. That's quite a gift, being able to run the way you can."

"Yes, sir." Sonic nodded eagerly.

"Well, I am pleased to finally meet you." Katzenov shook hands with the young hedgehog, but he withdrew his hand abruptly when the boy yelped in surprise and jerked his own hand away. "Hm? What's wrong?" A glance at his hand showed a trace of blood on the sharp edge of his ring. "Oh, did it cut you? Are you all right?"

"It's just a scratch!" Sonic sucked his injured fingertip gently through the nick in his glove. He wasn't badly hurt, and he wanted to show his maturity to the general.

"Well, I am sorry." Katzenov snapped his fingers, summoning his attendants as he removed his ring. "See that this is cleaned, and have that edge filed down." One of the two nondescript, uniformed cats produced a curious plastic bag and placed the ring inside, before both departed from the ornithopter. "If you'll excuse me..." The tiger walked to the front of the vehicle and took the co-pilot's seat.

"That's funny..." Sally remarked quietly to her friend, her head slowly tilting as a dainty finger came to rest under her chin. "I don't think I've ever seen the general wear a ring before..."

"Ah, everyone is already here." King Max poked his head in the door, freshly returned from seeing Sir Charles off. "Hello my dear!"

"Hello, daddy." Sally waved from her seat.

"We're all set for takeoff, your majesty." General Katzenov donned an earpiece and began the preparatory procedures for the great flying machine to launch.

"Excellent!"With a sudden youthful exuberance, the king spun his chair around and sat, rotating to the controls in a practiced and swift fashion. "I'm releasing the landing gear now." He pulled a lever at his console and snapped his own earpiece in with his other hand.

The three passengers, Rosie, Sonic, and Sally, felt a slight Jolt as the great, birdlike machine rose up on a pair of strong, mechanical legs and began a slow, deliberate waddle down the runway, it's many-jointed feet flexing and providing a faint bounce on each step. "This thing's gonna fly?" Sonic leaned forward to ask his guardian in the row ahead, a bit dubious of its awkward motion.

"Oh, she'll fly, my boy." The king overheard and intercepted his question in place of Rosie. "Just wait and see."

"Beginning wing actuation." Katzenov coolly noted, flicking through a set of small switches on his end of the flight controls.

Suddenly, the machine's great wings came to life, beating like a bird's, and Sonic saw one from his window, as it made its first powerful stroke. "Whoa, cool!"

The ornithopter's heavy feet picked up speed as it plodded down the long runway, making distinct, metallic 'ka-klack' sounds on the pavement. With one concerted motion, it kicked off and jumped in the air in time with the beat of it's wings and took to the sky, streaking upward at speed. Sonic watched the runway shrink away beneath the window in silent amazement as the great machine departed.

"Deploying glide flaps." The king pulled on a large handle and the ornithopter's wings unfolded additional metal plates, like great, shining feathers, all along their length. They tilted this way and that individually, steadying and guiding the vehicle on its journey up to the clouds. The ornithopter leveled out at a high altitude and the king addressed his passengers once more. "Enjoy the flight, everyone, it's a long, smooth glide towards Angel Island from here."


	23. Chapter 18

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XVIII: **__'The Secret War'_

As a delegation of peace took to the skies above, in an abandoned warehouse in the Mobotropolis Industrial District a battle was being waged. Beneath the notice of the Mobotropolis citizenry, it was a battle that had taken place in backroom deals and clandestine meetings; its fighters a pair of young bounty hunters and an elusive quarry. In a dark corner, high in the rafters of the dusty warehouse, Kurtis Prower perched; his fur dyed black, his clothing dark, a matte black rifle with scope in his hands. He knew that his target was coming here, today. He just wasn't sure who his target was.

"Are we sure this is the best plan, Kurtis?" Rebecca's voice came in through his headset. "I mean, really? It's this simple?"

"You worry too much, babe." Kurtis casually checked over his rifle as he quietly whispered through his microphone at her. "Those informants I tossed around at that bar last night knew better than to pull a fast one. Our guy's coming here, today. They show up, I snipe them, it's all over the news and we're all done and can get back to running Vince down. The employer wants this mystery traitor dead, so I'll just pulp 'em and be done."

"What if we get the wrong council member?" There was a twinge of concern in the young woman's voice, as was often the case as the voice of reason on the team.

"How? What, you think the entire Scientific Council sneaks into this warehouse to drop off documents at six-something in the morning?" Kurtis shot back, his annoyed whisper becoming a hiss.

"All right, fine. Who do you think it even is, anyway?"

He shrugged at no one. "Be harrowed if I know who... we've been out in the backwater towns so long before this mess that I don't know who's even on the council anymore. Hey, hang on!" A door opening, then shutting quietly caught his ears; he readied his gun.

The footsteps were audible. Closer, then closer still. He wasn't alone in the warehouse, but seeing his target in the darkness was proving difficult. Moments of tense quiet passed before he saw the boot. Its owner was out of sight, obscured behind a large piece of loading equipment, but there it was, a black boot, the faintest glint of light on the toe as the owner tapped their foot in impatience.

Kurtis couldn't identify his target, and couldn't take a kill-shot at a toe. He briefly considered trying to snipe _through _the machine, but as accurate as he was, he had no idea how tall or short the mystery boot-wearer was. Instead, the dyed-black fox slowly, painstakingly inched his body along the ceiling rafter, trying to position himself where he could see his mark a bit more clearly.

"Kurtis, what's going on? I can't pick up anything from inside here." Rebecca's soft, hushed voice echoed in his ear, silent to all but him.

The bounty hunter pulled a sound-dampening cloth mask over his muzzle and answered as discreetly as he could. "I see our guy... kinda. I'm trying to get a shot lined up, but they keep pacing around."

Another door opened, the ratcheting door at the back of the warehouse this time. More figures entered, but they were not Mobians. Their tall stature, the dull plastic of their full-body armor, the featureless, mirror-finish faceplates...

Kurtis went wide-eyed at the sight; a sight no one would have expected in the heart of the kingdom. "Overlanders..."

"What?" Rebecca's voice sounded quite alarmed at the revelation. "There's Overlanders in Mobotropolis? How?"

"I dunno. They look like special ops, though. Five of them. I doubt this rifle's gonna get penetration on those ballistic suits."

Rebecca was silent for a moment. Overlanders were not part of the plan. She was his backup, but it was still his call how to proceed. "...do you want me to come in?"

"Not yet." He whispered back. "But this is huge, whatever it is, so be ready to back me up. I'm gonna try to hear what they're sayin'..." He perked his ears and activated a sound booster in his earpiece.

"-should have thought of that before, doctor. It's far too late to back out on us now." The agitated voice of the Overlander commander was still precise and smooth in the face of his annoyance as it crackled through his helmet speaker. "The money's already been dropped off, and you can't stop now. Overland bought you for quite a large sum, doctor, and if you try to cut us off, my handler will make sure your king finds out exactly what you're doing."

Kurtis was skilled; he'd taken down some of the most dangerous people on the planet over his modest career, but this... this was far bigger than him. He didn't want to fight them all, and wasn't even sure he could... but there was an option. If he could identify the conspirator and remain hidden, he could kill him easily later on. The fox raised his rifle, peering through the scope for a better look at a Mobian figure, still hidden in the shadows...

"I'll make sure to tell him we- huh?" The leader of the Overlander group cut short his ongoing conversation, turning and staring straight up into the darkness at Kurtis. "What's that?"

Kurtis froze, a cold dread creeping up his spine. Their leader had seen something, probably a faint glint of light from his scope lens in motion. He could make out the dark blue of the Overlander leader's armor in the gloom. It signified he was of substantial rank and a special operative; there was probably enough gear in his helmet to see Kurtis in the pitch-blackness if he cared to turn any of it on.

The Overlander was still staring at him, Kurtis knew. He could see no features behind the all-obscuring helmet of the tall figure, but he knew that beneath it were a pair of squinting eyes, trying to make a shape out of the dark blob in the corner. The Overlander raised a hand to a small switch on his helmet. A cascade of blue light washed over his dark faceplate for an instant. Kurtis knew the motion detection setting when he saw it, and silently hoped that the soldier's helmet cameras didn't have access to any other spectrum. By keeping perfectly still, his breath held, Kurtis could beat that simple scan. The soldier would have to set his intensity so high to catch the faint motions of his half-closed eyes that the dust floating about the place would wash out his sensor readings.

Another touch, and then a green light replaced the blue glow. Light Amplification. All Kurtis could do was hope that his position was so dark that he wasn't defined within it. '_Come on!' _Kurtis thought to himself in silence, _'How many scan spectrums do you have in that helmet you paranoid son of -' _Then there was a red light in the Overlander's visor, and there was nothing more the fox could do. He couldn't hide his own body heat in the cool corner of the ceiling... The Overlander took a shocked step backwards, surprised to see this very unexpected eavesdropper. "We're not alone! Waste that spy!" He raised his weapon, his men quickly following suit.

"Damn!" Caught, but never caught unprepared, Kurtis kicked the magnetic base of a cable line he'd attached to the rafter and rolled off; it began giving him slack rapidly. He swiftly slid ever closer to the floor as the four Overlanders opened fire on him. When one of the shots severed the line at the last moment, the fox landed on his back with a loud thud, his rifle slipping from his hands and clattering into the darkness. "I need backup, Rebecca!"

In the deep darkness of the warehouse, an engine revved to life. Moments after, a heavy Overlander transport burst through the side of a long-forgotten shipping container on a ramming course for the Overlanders. Only after it had hit one of them did they realize they were being ambushed.

"That thing's not one of ours!" The Overlander commander had snatched the compact machine gun from the lifeless hand of his fallen subordinate to double his firepower against the transport, but to no avail. Neither weapon had the potency to penetrate the vehicle's armored chassis. Seeing a losing fight on his hands he shoved his mysterious Mobian contact towards the nearest door. "Get out of here! We can't be seen together! I'll take care of this!"

Kurtis rolled, ducked, and dodged his way through stacks of crates, gunfire striking all around him as he sought some source of bulletproof cover. When a stray shot blew out a long-inactive control panel as he passed, the resulting power surge sent the whole of the warehouse into gear. The ceiling lights came on. Loading and unloading equipment rumbled back to life, moving boxes along automated paths with no heed to the gunfight raging around them.

In that instant, the warehouse was plunged into total chaos. Just as the facility operated with no concern to the safety of its unusual visitors, it was also never designed to handle interference. Every damaged machine, every shoved box, every explosion caused even more malfunctions and hazards as the machinery marched on, unwavering in purpose.

Kurtis weaved through an ever-changing maze of boxes – an increasing number of which were catching on fire – in an attempt to lose two pursuing Overlander soldiers. Cornered when a dead end formed right in front of him courtesy of a loading crane jamming and dropping a heavy crate, he spun around to find his pursuers standing in the intersection. Armed with only his pistol, he was woefully underpowered against their ballistic armor, but his years of streetwise experience showed him that improvised weapons were all around. He fired his pistol into the air, the bullet striking another overhead crane as it passed by, ricocheting off with an ear-splitting ring and setting the whole thing swinging in a loose arc.

"Was that supposed to be a warning shot, Mobian?" The Overlanders laughed to themselves and raised their weapons, only to be crushed an instant later when the runaway crane arm swung into a tall stack of shipping crates, bringing the entire stack down on them.

In far too much danger to be pleased with himself for very long, Kurtis scrambled over the avalanche of boxes. A handle caught his eye as he half-tumbled down thew other side to safety. A weapon? He pulled it out of the wrecked crate it was sticking out of; it was a shovel. "Tools..." A smile crept up the corner of his blackened face as he realized what the warehouse was storing. "They're full of tools..."

Rebecca was afraid, though not of the Overlanders; she'd fought them before once or twice. Rather, she was afraid of using the weapons at her vehicle's disposal for fear that they might make the damage to the building even worse. Fighting wasn't the point anyway; there was little to gain here, and escape was a better option. She continued her long laps around the ever-changing warehouse floor, searching for Kurtis or trying to run the Overlander officer over, whichever objective presented itself at the time.

The Overlander was good, she'd noticed. He was fleet of foot, quick to get out of her way, and always using obstacles to his advantage. He'd long since run out of ammo and was trying to figure out a way to board her transport. The Vixen turned hard to pursue him around his latest corner feint, but this time, he was waiting for her. He leaped to the side of her charge, grabbed one of the front handholds on the transport's chassis swinging into her door with the momentum. He used this added force to punch out the driver-side window cover and catch her squarely in the jaw in the same blow.

Rebecca reeled to the side from the unexpected hit and accidentally turned, hard, to the side as she fell out of her seat. The runaway transport hit a low obstacle and flipped, then rolled, coming to rest in a flaming wreck of crates with both Mobian and Overlander inside.

Kurtis raced trough the warehouse, vaulting boxes and darting through spaces too small for his final pursuer to follow. He only needed to lure him a little farther; to run him around one more corner, where his weapon awaited...

Another burst of controlled fire; another miss. The Mobian was fast. The Overlander soldier had lost contact with the rest of his squad in the chaos, but he wasn't about to lose his target. His weapon beeped at him to notify him it was out of ammo, but he tossed it aside and drew his sidearm instead of stopping to bother with reloading. His helmet's audio amplifier could hear the Mobian's rapid breathing, around the corner. Hiding. Scared. As well he should be...

The Overlander rounded the corner in a full run, Kurtis swung the pickaxe he'd scavenged from a crate hard and high. As deadly as any spear, the sharpened tool pierced the Overlander's armor and torso alike; stopping just short of running him completely through.

"Hgghk!" A choking gasp emanated from the mortally wounded soldier's helmet speaker as he slid to his knees in a dead stop, dragging his much smaller opponent down slightly with his dead weight. "Ghhhk.." With a trembling, numbed hand he reached out for the fox's throat. "Khhhk... Mobian... dogghhk..."

Kurtis flattened him with a practiced hook to the jaw before his fingertips were even at his fur. "I'm a _fox,_" he corrected, sneering with contempt, "not a dog. But I wouldn't expect Overlanders to be smart enough to know the difference." He left the unconscious Overlander to bleed out while he contacted his wife again on his headset. "Rebecca? I got my guys, how about you?"

Kurtis' voice crackled over his wife's broken headset. "Ugh..." She crawled her way up to her hands and knees and tried to respond, but the headset sparked and screeched and she could only bat it off her head before it could catch her fur or hair on fire. Groggily, she tried to take inventory of her surroundings. She was sitting on the ceiling of their vehicle; part home, part transport, and that meant it was currently upside down. The bright orange ambiance and the increasingly uncomfortable heat told her the transport was on fire, and she would have to leave before it found the fuel tank, or worse, the munitions. Rebecca scrambled through the scattered bits of everything that hadn't been bolted down, fumbling for the access hatch panel in the rear of the vehicle. She wasn't sure how badly she was hurt, probably a concussion at the least, but she was certain it was bad enough to impair her thinking. The Overlander was still alive; she could hear him groaning back in the cockpit.

Rebecca's dazed hands finally found the panel and she released the damaged hatch. The metal groaned, then screeched as it tried to open upside-down. The hinges strained against the hatch's weight and gravity, putting up a valiant effort to comply before snapping free and sending the whole thing crashing heavily outward.

Rebecca staggered out of the open hatch; one hand keeping her stable, the other holding her aching head. "Kurtis!" She called, hoping he was in earshot over the noise of the factory. "Kuuuurtis!" She took a few steps more before a heavy, plastic-covered hand clamped down on her shoulder painfully.

In a flash, her fighting instincts took over and she wrenched her shoulder free, spinning on her heel and driving a high kick straight into the Overlander's faceplate. She could hear it crack, and the soldier's groan was audible from inside his damaged helmet as he hit the ground.

When she saw him shakily stand once more, Rebecca jumped to the side, kicking off of a heavy crate and delivering a spinning kick to the side of his head. That time, both of them hit the ground. The adrenaline rush of fighting and the spinning was taking a toll on her aching head, and the wounded fox girl sank to her knees, closing her eyes tight as she tried to stave off unconsciousness. As her world went dark, she fell back into a pair of arms; but these were soft, and in her size.

"I've got you, babe."

Kurtis supported her with one arm and leveled a gun with the other, pointing it at their fallen opponent. "Your suit's damaged enough that I bet I can put a few shots through it, so don't try anything cute."

"Ungh." The Overlander rose to one knee, weakly steadying his posture. "You GZZZZZZZTKTTT-" His helmet's mouthpiece screeched and crackled from the damage it had sustained, and he detached it quickly, obviously wincing at the sound behind his mirrored mask. He spat a mouthful of blood through the small hole where his helmets' external speaker had been and sighed. "How'd you find out about us? I can't figure out where I slipped up."

"I'm the one asking questions here." Kurtis replied. "How about we start with this one: Who was your Mobian contact just a minute ago? What's their name?"

"Hah."The Overlander officer laughed weakly. "Hahaha... You don't know a damned thing. You're not Royal Guard at all."

"Answer the question!"

Another weak laugh. "Hahaha... I'm not giving you a thing." The Overlander gave his military's salute; he clasped his hand over his heart with a loud 'thud', then extended it, palm out. "Overland Eternal!" A moment later, jets of fire erupted from every hole and seam in his armor and he collapsed forward in a burning, melting heap of plastic armor and ashen bones. He had activated his personal incinerator; a suicide device some covert Overlander operatives used. It would rapidly immolate the user, denying their captors any interrogation, or even a body to identify.

The concussive wave of hot air released by the device was enough to knock Kurtis and Rebecca over. As Kurtis rose and helped steady his injured wife on her feet, he saw the remains of their transport and home, burning beyond them. "... We've gotta get out of here before the Royal Guard shows up, babe. Can you walk?"

"I think so..." Her voice was distant and shaken. "Our things... we have to get our things..."

"It's gone." Kurtis dropped his dun and scooped his wife up, carrying her to save her the trouble of walking in her dazed state. "I'll get you new things. I promise." There was a small, muffled explosion within the wreck of the transport; the first of many and by far not the largest to come. "Let's go. There's nothing more for us here."

"We didn't... find our guy, did we?" Rebecca looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. "What're we gonna do now?"

"I dunno, Rebecca..." Kurtis sighed, pushing open a back door with his foot and wincing at the morning sunlight after so long in the dark. "First, we gotta get you to a doctor. Then... I dunno. Maybe we go after Vince like we came here to do. Take him in, make our bounty, buy some more gear and come back to this." He spied a secluded manhole cover and set his wife down beside it, beginning the tough task of prying it open without tools. "Hnnngh..."

"Undercity?" Rebecca sat up slightly, slowly trying to take in his intentions.

"Yeah. Our money was in the transport, so we're gonna have to get you a street doc down in Undercity. We know Vince is down there, too, so we may as well start looking." Kurtis pried the manhole cover off after one last, hard exertion and slid it aside. "I know. Back to sewers and being broke and all this again. I promise we won't always live like this, babe. One of these days, we're gonna hit it big, and I'm gonna get you all the good things you deserve. You know that, right?"

There was no answer. Rebecca was unconscious or asleep, slumped against the low wall he'd laid her by.

"Oh." With a sigh, Kurtis gently picked her up, laid her over his shoulder and took one last glance at the burning warehouse they'd just left. "One of these days. I promise."

Senator Odwin hoped to remain undetected as he stepped out of the elevator to his suite in Overland. If all was well, the aged senator would sleep in, remain undisturbed, and every day thereafter would proceed as if nothing had happened. He turned the key to open his door to find his abode dark. The blinds were drawn and only the faintest light drifted in from the morning outside. He hadn't drawn them before he left...

He flipped the light switch, saw the armed squad of Colin's personal soldiers that stood waiting for him, and he knew that it was over. They seized him in an instant, the lead officer bending him over a table roughly and pressing a pistol to the back of his skull.

"Now now, gentlemen. The senator is an old man, there's no need to be so rough." Central Speaker Colin Kintobor triumphantly strode into the room in all his diminutive glory, glaring down his long, hawkish nose at Senator Odwin.

The soldiers holstered their weapons and sat the aged Overlander in a chair. Odwin settled in his new seat, nodding slowly. "I won't bother asking, Colin. I know you have eyes everywhere."

"Oh, Senator..." Colin paced before him. "You threw away everything to accomplish nothing. Do you really think giving the animals plans on my weapon will allow them to stop it from being built?"

"I sincerely hope so, Colin." Odwin frowned, defiant.

"But, you see, I have already won!" Colin sat down in the opposite chair after a nearby soldier deployed a booster seat to keep him at eye level with his political rival. "We've proven time after time that the Mobians are unlikely to overrun a superior defensive position, and thanks to the Mass Extinction Drive, I have no further need to fight anymore battles."

"What are you saying!?"

"I have recalled the troops, Odwin..." Colin grinned widely. "I left token defenses at key strategic points on the front lines, but I have otherwise recalled the _entire_ army to entrench and defend the construction site for the device. So, you see, Senator, you accomplished nothing. Even if the Mobians know the specifications of the weapon, even if they know its location, they cannot fight their way through the entire military to mount any resistance to it! The war is over, and I have won!"

"The senate will never approve of such a gambit, Colin." Odwin shook his head and laughed. "You've lost your touch."

"Oh I believe they will." Colin answered matter-of-factly, leaning forward. "And as for you..." He snapped his fingers, and one of his soldiers roughly produced a bottle of wine, slamming it down on the table, followed shortly by a glass. "You are going to have a drink."

Odwin eyed the obviously poisoned wine. "I'm not thirsty."

"You'd better get thirsty, then. I've tolerated you because of your popularity with the people, Odwin, but this time you've gone too far."

"I am not afraid of you, Colin."

This got a laugh from the little tyrant. "No, no I suppose you aren't. You should be. But you aren't. You aren't afraid of dying either. So, I'm making you a polite offer. Either you enjoy a nice drink from a very good vintage, and die peacefully and painlessly, with your honor intact..."

"Or?"

"Or I show the people what you've just done, beat a confession out of you, execute you, and drag you through the city streets; and I will make certain that it will be painful, and slow, and your family name will have no honor anymore." He smiled as the senator's defeated sigh reached his ears, and rose to leave, most of his entourage going with him. "Enjoy your drink. The sergeant will keep you company until you're all done, Odwin." The door closed, and Odwin was alone again in his home, save for the mirror-masked soldier that now sat opposite him, arms folded sternly.

"You win, Colin. You are finally rid of me." He muttered at no one, pouring himself a drink from the bottle. "And I'm glad. I'm glad I won't be here to see what you'll do to our beloved Overland." He took a long, thoughtful sip of his poison and 'hmphed' approvingly. "Well, Colin was telling the truth about that at least." He raised the glass to the silent soldier that sat watching him in a toast. "It is a good vintage..." He laughed, and smiled a little, and took another drink. "To the Mass Extinction Drive, a monument to Colin's 'glorious' victory. May the whole damn thing fall down on all your fool heads."


	24. Chapter 19

_**The Mobian Chronicles**_

_**Book I**_

_**Chapter XIX: **__'Of Echidnas'_

Soaring through the skies was a very new experience for Sonic The Hedgehog; though he could clear an extreme distance with a running jump, it wasn't really the same as actually flying in the sky. The equally land-bound Princess Sally shared in his wonderment, her face pressed against a windowglass with him, watching in amazement as the land far below gave way to endless water.

King Max spared an occasional glance back at his daughter and her friend, smiling to himself. "I take it you're enjoying the trip back there, Bean? "

"Yes, daddy! Thank you for letting me come along, and thank you for letting Sonic come too!" Sally was glowing with enthusiasm at the trip.

"Yeah! Thanks!" Sonic added, giving a thumbs-up towards the cockpit. "This is way past cool!"

"That's a glowing endorsement from you, if I'm not mistaken." The King chuckled to himself. Ah! There's the Floating Island coming up now!"

"Where?" Sally searched the endless sea outside her window, exchanging shrugs with Sonic. "I don't see any Islands, just water..."

"Oh, it's not down there, my dear." The king corrected, "It's dead ahead of us."

True enough, when Sonic and Sally cast their gaze forward, they both saw a dark spot in the sky. It was obviously large, being so far away. "Wow! It's floating in the sky!? How can it do that?"

"It's magic, Sally." Rosie noted, ever eager to tutor her favorite student.

"I thought magic was bad, right?" Sonic asked, looking away from the impressive sight for just a moment.

"It's not bad, Sonic!" Sally laughed, "It's just that it's almost all gone, so no one can use it! Right, Rosie?"

Actually, Sally..." Rosie adjusted her glasses, as she always did before lecturing, "You are both partly correct. While it's true that magic isn't as common as it once was, it's far from gone. There are many people still born with the ability to use magic, but they do not, either because they never learn they can, or because they choose to avoid using it."

"Because it's bad!" Sonic again insisted.

"Because they believe it is bad." The aged squirrel corrected him. "Magic isn't a good thing or a bad thing, Sonic, it's what you do with it that counts. Many Mobians simply believe it to be bad because it goes against the principles of science, which we accept are all true. Others remember our history, when it used to be used to do many bad things, and so they label it as bad, too. But, it's important to remember that the Echidnas are not Mobians. They broke away from us many hundreds of years ago; they have their own culture and their own beliefs. To them, magic isn't 'bad', it's a way of life."

The Ornithopter's entire cabin shook suddenly as a beam of red energy streaked past, sending out shockwaves of superheated air. " There's our welcoming party. Don't be alarmed," General Katzenov explained cooly. "They're only firing a warning shot." He donned his headset and offered a greeting to the unseen forces outside. "This is a royal ornithopter carrying a diplomatic delegation on a mission of peace. We will comply with docking instructions."

"Relations between us and the Echidnas are a little... cool." Rosie explained to her two students.

"If they're so cool, how come they shot at us?" Sonic asked, confused.

"No, Sonic..."

A very professional voice broke in via the ornithopter's communications system. "This is the Imperial Defense Force. You are being granted clearance to dock. We will escort you to an appropriate facility. Do not attempt to break from our formation."

Sonic finally saw one of the mysterious ships when it pulled up by his window. It was still somewhat bird-like, but it wasn't an ornithopter. this sleek red ship flew by means of jet thrusters, and he saw one of them slow to a stop, rotating its thrusters down to keep it aloft, before it changed course and sped away at extreme speed.

"Bring the children up here, Rosie." King Max beckoned from his pilot's seat. "They should get to see the island up close when we head in to dock."

Sonic, Sally, and Rosie reached the cockpit just in time to see the Echidna jets break away, form a large ring formation and stop in place. They rotated to face the center of the ring and each of them fired a bright red pulse of energy inward, forming a large, glowing portal lined with strange characters.

Before Sonic could even ask about it, the Ornithopter flew through the magical gateway and blinked out of existence.

The Floating Island (or Angel Island as it was known to its indigenous Echidna population) was more of a continent than an island. A large flying landmass, it had roamed the skies above Mobius on an unending circuit for many centuries. It had its rivers and lakes, (many of which spilled over the edges of the flying landmass, only to vanish into mystical portals that recollected and returned the water) mountains and valleys alike, and it borrowed the seasons from the lands it wandered through. Its massive desert, known as Sandopolis, boasted an extensive network of majestic ruins belonging to the Ancient Walkers, a Mobian name for the long-forgotten first people who lived on Mobius. these ruins were a source of pride for the Echidnas, who spun every lie they could think of to tie their own ancestry back to the Walkers. As such, tradition and the old ways were a staple of Echidnan life.

As an independent city-state all its own, the Floating Island and her people were free to do as they pleased; they excavated their ruins, they practiced magic openly, and they stayed out of the affairs of the lesser surface world whenever possible. With their mighty legion and its magical technology to protect them, even the lowest of Echidnas enjoyed a life of luxury and contemplation. Though they were far, far fewer in number than either the Mobians or the Overlanders, their level of technology was beyond both forces combined.

For most Echidnas, the surface world was so far out of mind that it may as well not even exist; but on this day, as a brilliant blue ornithopter emerged from a magical portal above the island, many onlookers paused in their daily lives to look up at the primitive Mobian machine, its wings beating in steady, regal sweeps, the sun glinting along its sleek frame.

Sonic the Hedgehog scarcely had the permission to open a passenger window before he'd stuck his quilled head out to gawk in wonder at the new world in the sky beneath him. He tilted his head to sweep aside his windblown quills and marveled at a gleaming cosmopolitan city, not unlike his own Mobotropolis, opening out below as if to greet his approach. This was a new experience. He could run faster than this, but he couldn't soar through the sky and see the whole world stretch out below him. This was what it was like to fly! He looked onward to their destination; a large metallic perch had risen up from the city below and the ornithopter deployed its landing claws, settling atop it like a bird. As the mighty mechanical bird powered down, the pole-like perch retracted, beginning its slow descent to the bustling city of Echidnopolis far below.

A female voice spoke over the intercom as the ornithopter was lowered deep into a subterranean docking area. "Mobian ornithopter, this is docking control. Welcome to Angel Island and Echidnopolis. Remain in your craft and a security team will be with you shortly. Please enjoy your stay." A heavy thud reverberated through the craft as it came to a stop at the bottom of the facility. Echidna hospitality was a curious thing; they were welcomed in, but there would be no way to fly the ornithopter back out until it was raised back up to the surface.

Through the cockpit glass, all of them could see the large mechanical doors just outside dramatically unlock and slide apart. The promised "security team" that filed through resembled robotic soldiers more than docking bay staff. Clad completely in purplish metal armor and brandishing long staffs that ended in curious, ever-spinning cylinders, they marched into the hangar in droves. Seemingly infinite, the Echidna troopers soon filled the spacious hangar and took positions in an obvious ceremonial display of military power.

"Some security team." Katzenov noted at his king.

"Oh, I feel secure already." Maximilian deadpanned to his copilot. Katzenov's shoulders lifted slightly, the only indicator of his amused chuckle. Outside, a singular figure, dressed in more conventional clothing, awaited them patiently.

The ornithopter's door opened quietly, and General Nikolai Katzenov descended the access stairs solemnly. "His Royal Majesty, King Maximilian Acorn!" Immediately, a resounding series of clanking noises rang out as the entire assembly of Echidna soldiers dropped to one knee, their strange spears raised high, their large purple capes spreading out behind them. The beat the base of their spear against the metal floor in asynchronous rhythms, producing a sort of percussive fanfare for the leader of their rival nation. Amidst it all, King Max strode down the stairs, his pilot's cap traded for his usual crown.

Behind him at some distance, Rosie and the children followed; Sally trying her best to look regal in her blue ballgown-like dress and silver tiara, Sonic too busy staring at the assembled soldiers to try and look 'cool'.

Speaking of cool, he thought, '_These guys are awesome! I want armor like that!' _The Echidna soldiers wore full suits of metal armor just like the Royal Guard back home; only their strange, downward pointing quills were visible, draped decoratively over their shoulders. This armor, however, was nothing like the lifeless plates Sonic thought of as armor. It was clearly mechanical, like the robot he'd met in the forum gardens during the council presentation not long ago. There were subtle signs of machinery in the purple armor's joints, and the helmet visor had a large, glowing slat that probably worked like a computer screen. Their spears were very weird. Sonic had never seen anything like the tip of them. A perfect cylinder of red stone, with strange carvings, it wasn't even attached to the haft of the weapon; it just... floated there where the tip would be, lazily spinning along its curve. The shape of it reminded Sonic of the barrel of a gun, which he'd seen a model of during one of Rosie's lessons about Overlanders. Rosie had said that guns were very dangerous and that Mobians should never, ever handle them. These Echidnas really were different from them after all.

But why was it floating? Was it some kind of magic gun? Although it was taboo, Sonic was undeniably curious about Magic, and he hoped he'd get to see some while he was on the Floating Island.

"Welcome to Angel Island, Your Majesty." The figure waiting for them in the docking bay doorway looked like less of a dignitary and more of an adventurer. He wore a heavy coat, tattered and dusty, and a wide brimmed hat worn with age. His shirt and pants were equally trail-worn, and the entire ensemble was varying shades of tan. He was at once, both the most heavily and yet worst dressed person Sonic had ever seen. "I'm Locke, Minister of Archeology on the Echidnan Scientific Council. I'll be your handler for the duration of your stay. I'm sorry I'm not a proper dignitary; your unexpected visit caught the emperor off guard and I was at hand..." He removed his hat respectfully, a few errant quills that had been caught up it it fell softly to join the rest.

"It's quite fine." King Max smiled, offering a hand to shake. "You already know who I am, with me are General Nikolai Katzenov, my chief adviser, and Minister of Military Science on my council. This is Rosie, the Royal Matron." He gestured to each in turn, then to the children. "My daughter, Princess Sally Alicia Acorn, and... er, her friend, Sonic."

Katzenov nodded, Rosie bowed her head and Sally curtsied. Sonic, in a show of his vaunted diplomatic skill, gave a thumbs up and a heartfelt "Yo!"

Locke smiled at the whole of the party and gestured behind him. "Come out, son. I know you're back there."

A red-furred echidna boy, clad in white shoes and gloves quietly stepped out from around a corner to join his father, his head hung a little in defeat.

"I told you to go on home and wait for me, didn't I?" Locke gently scolded, "Now, why did you follow me? Speak up, boy."

"I..." The boy started, shyly. "I wanted to meet the king..."

"Hm." Locke chuckled, putting a hand behind his son and pushing him forward to meet the group. "I see. Your majesty, this is my child, Knuckles. You'll have to forgive his lack of diplomatic skill. He takes after his father." The older echidna smiled at the king, an infectious nonchalance and friendliness about him.

"Well, then..." The king knelt down to eye level with the echidna boy, taking his hand and shaking it politely. "I am King Maximilian Acorn, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Hello, Knuckles." Sally nodded her head smiling. Sonic was about to give another thumbs-up and 'yo', but Rosie gently rapped him on the top of his head before he could.

"...Hi." Knuckles shyly returned, averting his gaze from the group.

"Let's get started." Locke broke the sudden silence nervously, gesturing down the hall behind him. "I'm sure Your Majesty is eager to speak with the Emperor, and I'll be happy to give the rest of you a grand tour of the island."

"That sounds wise,." the king agreed, "The Emperor's court is no place for Sonic and Sally. Nikolai and I will go speak with him now. Children, stay with Rosie and Minister Locke. I'm sure you'll find the city far more exciting than the court!" Under his breath, he added "Designer knows I would..."

The group soon found themselves at the surface, standing before the towering, imperious steps of the Echidna Emperor's citadel. A mix of old and new, the wrought iron fence around it was set in heavy stones, but the citadel itself was an elaborate, opulent place of shining metals and advanced synthetic materials. Symbols and panels all about glowed with the same alien energy that was seen in their vehicles and weapons. Though they had reached the surface, it was all still hidden from the open air, enclosed within a metal-domed arcology all its own. Everything around the citadel seemed to be a part of its own, a self contained and self-sufficient miniature city-within-a-city.

"Now then, Bean..." King Max knelt to address his beloved daughter face-to-face, "I fear I am like to be busy here for quite a while, today, so you be good and listen to Rosie while you're out in the city. Did you bring your new computer?"

Sally fished N.I.C.O.L.E. Out of her dress' oversized front pocket and presented it proudly. "Mhm!"

"Good! I know Professor Calus programmed it with knowledge of all sorts of places and things, so I'm sure it can answer any questions you'll have along the way. You have fun, I want to hear all about what you learned today when I get back, all right?"

"Yes, daddy." Sally smiled and kissed her father lightly on the cheek.

"I'd better get going. We mustn't keep Dmitri waiting. Let's go get this over with, Nikolai..." Max rose and turned, flanked by the tiger general as they began to summit the long steps of the citadel together.

"Come along children." Rosie put her hands behind their heads as she led them away. "We should get going as well. Let's follow Minister Locke."

"Well, uh, what should I show you?" Lock stroked the small tuft of russet fur on his chin, contemplating. "Why don't we just start here? This place is the Imperial Citadel, and it lies at the heart of the Imperial District. The city is broken up into many districts like this one, all of them self-contained and able to sustain themselves if there were ever an emergency of some kind."

"What are those big, boxy things?" Sally pointed at the tall, skyscraper-like towers that rose in a distant corner of the sky. They were shrouded in a sinking fog that seemed to emanate from atop them.

"Ah, those are atmo-pumps. Er, a sort of atmospheric converter." Locke glanced at his son, gesturing at him lightly. "Boy, explain them to her."

"Wh- me?" Knuckles stammered, taking a shy step backwards. "But..."

"Go on, you know what they do, and you need to learn to be more talkative with people."

"Yes, father." Knuckles sighed, "The air is thin up here. The towers run all the way through the island. They pull the thicker air from under it, and push it up here, where it settles on the surface..."

"Very good, my boy!" Lock took over for his embarrassed son, in his usual animated style of explaining. "We Echidnas are more adapted to the thinner atmosphere, but the towers keep us comfortable if there's heavy labor to do, as well as of course keeping our guests comfortable. Because they're not essential, though, they don't run on any district's power grid, they pull power from the emerald, like every other non-essential system on the island."

"An emerald?" Sonic asked, "Like a gem?"

"A _magic_ gem." Locke corrected, taking on a practiced air of wonder about him. Rosie noted that he was good with children. "Our society revolves around it, my boy. It's an artifact from a bygone people that were much grander than we were, long before we came to be. It's almost sacred to us."

"Can we _see_ some magic?" Sonic chimed in, waving a hand for attention's sake. "I wanna see real magic happen!"

"Oh!" Lock smiled at the boy, nodding in appreciation for the enthusiasm. "You want to see _magic_, do you? Well, I think I can do that."

"Cast a spell! Please?" Sonic's enthusiasm was spreading, and now Sally nodded in agreement with him.

"Hahaha! Oh, goodness." Locke grinned at his guests, shaking his head side to side as he bemusedly chuckled. "I forgot. You Mobians have such strange beliefs about us. I must explain!" The adult Echidna knelt down on eye level with the children. "Contrary to what the myths and legends about us might say, we aren't all wellborn. In fact, not many of us are at all." He glanced up, suddenly. "Miss Rosie, have you taught the children about 'auras'?"

The Royal Matron shook her head. "We don't generally teach our children applied magic."

"Ah, of course." He nodded politely. "Well then, children, an aura is a field of creative energy around you. Everyone has them, and that's all magic really is." He traced the air around an outline of Sonic's body as he explained. "Now, 'mundanes', people that can't use magic, can't interact with these auras."

"Right!" Sally nodded. "Only people who are wellborn can use magic!"

"That's right, your highness!" Locke smiled at her. "People who we call 'wellborn' are born with a rare gift; the power to comprehend their aura and manipulate the raw essence of creation that makes it up. They can use it to change their size or shape, and to accelerate the healing of injuries, or extend the aura past themselves to... say, to project a jet of fire from their fingertips, or make food and water appear from nothing. Unfortunately..." He frowned a little, "ill-meaning wellborn can also reach out into the auras of their enemies, to freeze them solid, or ignite them from within. It's because of that misuse in the past that many cultures are afraid of magic, maybe rightly so. I don't deny that the mage-lords five centuries ago made terrible misuse of their gift. Mammoth Mogul, Ixis Naugus, Ragath the Unmaker, all of them gave magic a bad name, but magic itself is neither good nor bad. It's merely a natural force. It's how you use it that counts. Ah, but I digress. Magic is a way of life for we Echidnas; it simply wouldn't do to not be able to use it, so we had to find a different way to empower those of us without the gift."

"How do you do that?" Rosie enquired. This revelation was new to even her, she had always assumed that Echidnas were all wellborn; a common belief among most Mobians.

"Centuries ago," Locke began, "when the wellborn began to die out, our ancient ancestors discovered a type of magic-sensitive stone that naturally occurs here on Angel Island. These red stones, called 'aurite', which you've no doubt seen prominently on equipment and structures so far, are able to interact with auras and control them. Unfortunately, while they can 'store' a certain command and activate it on demand, in order to truly manipulate an aura, the stone must be present inside of that aura."

"But if auras only extend as far as our body, how can you do that?" Sally innocently asked. "Do you swallow them?"

"No," Locke chuckled, "no, that is too short-term and ineffective. The smallest effective cut of stone is too big to swallow easily. No,our ancestors shaped the stones into... prosthetics. We find them often in our excavations of the ruins that dot our island. Stone hands, legs, eyes, even entire arms. Intricately crafted and fully articulate. At a young age, our people have a part of themselves excised, usually one that has some minor defect, and an aurite prosthesis is attached in its place."

Rosie seemed rather appalled at this, and both Sonic and Sally seemed perturbed as well. "That's..."

"That's the price of magic, for us, I'm afraid." Locke noted, a twinge of sadness in his voice. "It must all seem terribly barbaric to you, but it is our way, and very few among us choose not to undergo the process. If one is too squeamish about it all, they can have a lock of quills removed and replaced instead of digits or limbs. Most of us have our auric prosthesis plated in metal, for decoration and durability."

"Where is yours, Minister Locke?" Sally asked, still rather unnerved but nonetheless fascinated.

"Sally!" Her teacher raised her voice, about to scold her forwardness, but Locke again pre-empted her with a quiet laugh.

"No, no, please, she's quite observant. I do not have one, your highness. I am something of an oddity among my people. I did not want one."

"Then you can't show us any magic?" Sonic was crestfallen, an unusual thing for him.

"Oh, not to worry, I still have a few tricks I can show you; I simply prefer to use tools to accomplish my magic." Locke smiled and slid a hand into his heavy coat. "Boy!" He commanded, suddenly.

"Yes, father." Knuckles nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted. He picked out a small stone from the quiet morning pathway and wound up for a toss, throwing it high into the air.

Locke produced what was immediately identifiable as a handgun from his coat, a device that was little more than a grip with a detached barrel made of aurite silently spinning astride it. The spinning barrel picked up speed as he took aim, and a series of glowing symbols traced along its length before the magic within erupted outward with a loud thrumming sound. A beam of red energy struck the stone in mid flight, turning it to a cloud of flecks and dust in an instant.

Rosie recoiled slightly at the sound and sight of the weapon, but Sonic and Sally lacked her instinctive fear of the thing. "Wow!" They cheered in unison.

"If you want to see something even more impressive, we'll have to turn to my gifted son, Knuckles. How about it, boy?" Locke ruffled his son's quills affectionately. "Do you feel up to showing them your talent?"

"Yeah!" Knuckles smiled, for the first time since the children had met him, and he nodded eagerly.

"You'll notice my boy has no aurite prosthesis either." Locke smiled, proudly. "But, he doesn't need one. His is a very special gift; I dare say that my son is the fastest thing alive."

"What!?" Sonic became suddenly belligerent. "No way! Nobody's faster than me!"

"It's true!" Sally added, sticking up for her best friend. "Sonic runs faster than anybody!"

"I am afraid I have to side with them, Minister." Rosie said, chuckling at their enthusiasm. "I have no doubt that your son is exceptional, but Sonic is... truly unique."

"Oh yeah?" Knuckles pointed at the hedgehog boy, his own fleetness a matter of personal pride. "Prove it! I'll race you!"

"You're on!" Sonic shot back, before the realization of his mistake had hit him.. "Oh, yeah... but I can't run. I don't have my shoes anymore..."

"I think I can help with that." Rosie rooted through her bag for a box, which she presented to the boy. "I know your uncle said he would make you a pair when he got back, but he was worried about you not being able to exercise your legs, so he made an extra pair not too long ago, just in case. He said I could give them to you if you were behaving on our trip."

"Really?" Sonic beamed as he opened the box and saw the pair of red shoes within. "Wow! Thank you Rosie! You and Uncle Chuck are way past cool!" The hedgehog boy wasted no time getting them out if he box and testing the fit. "They're even better than my old ones!" he adjusted his socks in them and stretched his legs, obviously ready to race.

"Well, It looks like you have a challenger after all, boy." Locke smiled to his son. "How about a lap around the island? Knuckles' best time is a minute and twelve seconds." He raised an intrigued eyebrow when he noticed how his guests reacted so casually to such an outrageous time. "That's ... that's for a lap around the entire island."

"Yeah." Sally nodded.

"That seems about right to me." Rosie agreed, looking around the area and getting an idea for distance.

"... All right then." Locke pressed on, confused but undeterred. "Let's see what the boy can do, then."


End file.
